Tag: Poetry

Some Love

Some love is grand,
some love is bitter,
some love will last,
some love is temporary,
some love is distant,
some love will smother,
some love is needed,
some love is wanted,
some love is stolen,
some love
breaks you into pieces
so that someone else
you once loved
is someone else’s
love.

© Autumn Siders 2017

One-Way Street

I always look both ways
on a one-way street
since I never can trust
any soul that I meet.
The more age I gain,
the more trust I lose,
to assholes who stab me
when they don’t like my views.

No brothers in arms
and no honor among thieves;
every man for himself
with tricks up his sleeves.

© Autumn Siders 2017

Mushy Stuff

It’s not that I hate you,
I just don’t really like you.

However,
if there were anyone I could love
other than myself
you would be a close second
to the squirrel.

Now that the mushy stuff
is out of the way,
how about we discuss
something slightly more important.

Where’s my fish?

© Autumn and Emilita Siders 2017

 

Unscathed

Broken bottles scar the floor
from whatever scuffle
happened here before.

Tainted red with blood,
booze runs its course,
a drunken flood.

Is anyone left unscathed
by these tragedies?
Anyone saved?

All these wounds scar the skin
and still run deeper,
right through our kin.

Broken images fill her head
from moments passed
when she should be dead.

Tainted black with malice
her soul sinks deeper,
her heart so callous.

Is anyone left unscathed?

© Autumn Siders 2017

Me? No, Never

Me? No, never.
That’s the honest truth.
No man has disrespected
me or my worth.

I’ve seen it happen though,
to others
and I’ve realized one thing:

it matters not the sex
doing the disrespecting.

I’ve seen women cut men down
and I’ve seen men bleed women dry.
I’ve seen women cut women
and I’ve seen men watch other men die.

It’s not a battle of the sexes,
but a battle for our souls
as people disrespect people
and carry on like trolls.

I don’t mean to downplay
the abuses we discuss,
but the damage if far greater
than just them vs. us.

The problem isn’t men
and the problem isn’t women.
The problem is society
and its utter lack of humanity.

Me? No, never.
And I’ll never let it be.
And if you find you need a hand,
you can always count on me.

© Autumn Siders 2017

#tbt

The blood, it doesn’t stop,
but I like the way it feels
like all the sins of today
are leaving just in time.
The warmth leaves my body,
pooled on the floor
as my skin grows colder
with every drop I lose.

Why’d you have to stop it
when it was simply meant to be?
I never asked to be saved
by anyone but me.

© Autumn Siders 2008

Ehportsatac

Every ounce of pain I’ve caused
was really for your own good
but your eyes will only see the demon
that your mind has tricked you
into believing is me.

Every ounce of pain I feel
is for your aching soul
and for each time I hurt you
that demon that you see,
haunts not you, but me.

© Autumn Siders 2017