Tag: Poetry

dRats

You were but inches away

and somehow still ran

this is not my fault,

you know I had a plan.

You would have been mine.

It was only a matter of time,

but you must be in cahoots

with those people, what a crime!

Just as I was about to pounce

and catch myself a mouse

there came the sound of a bag

that filled the whole house

and so I left you behind

just inches from my feet.

Why eat a mouse,

when you can eat a treat?

© Autumn and emilita Siders 2016

Countdown

The clock started ticking

as the countdown had begun

and I sat staring blankly

at what little work was done.

The solitude a writer needs

is often hard to find

and even harder still

when nursing a broken mind.

© Autumn Siders 2016

A story is on its way, I promise…

#tbt

In what little space remains

I squeeze the words necessary

to convey all that explains

but does not excuse my actions.

–

In what little time remains

I hope that your forgiveness

can find a way, not to agree,

but to accept what cannot be changed.

–

With what little hope remains

I hope that somehow you know

no matter what happens then or now,

a lot of love still remains.

© Autumn Siders 2014

Soul Burns Black

Rainbows and butterflies

have never been my thing

and the darker the humor

the more laughter will ring.

I kid, or maybe not,

that my soul burns black

and with a knife never far

I am ready for attack.

None of this means

that I am sad or upset

it’s just who I am,

and I have no regret.

© Autumn Siders 2016

Not As it Seams

You are so quick to judge

when you haven’t got a clue

yet you say you’re not judgmental

and that’s all I see you do.

–

Never once did you stop to think

what it might be like for another

but from up so high it’s hard to see

that one of us is not so unlike the other.

–

That troubled child, all covered in ink

is not as troubled as you seem to think

and that woman put so tightly together seems

so perfect, but all the while is fraying at the seams.

© Autumn Siders 2016

Easter Basket

I hear the people talking,

as if they think I don’t hear,

about a friendly visit

that happens once a year.

They say there will be baskets

filled with chocolate and cheer.

brought to us with care

from a pair of floppy ears.

Well I am sure not one for chocolate

and no cat exhibits cheer,

so take the contents back

but leave the basket here.

© Autumn and Emilita Siders 2016