Rhyming Poems

I feel the breeze that turns to wind
And see the rain that turns to snow.
I feel the cold, walking alone,
Start to speed up to stop shivers,
With the songs I just wrote singing.

Stepping harder, becoming slow,
A thin white coat begins to show.
Of wife and daughter I then think,
Seeing their smiles for a bit

A few steps ahead, the coat’s grown.
I cannot run, I start to moan,
‘Till I see them in front of me

Running like never had been seen,
I spread my arms, embrace them whole

A last cold hug before I go.

I turn you and wait,
And see you fall straight
As air fights its way.

Black and light it moves,
And the sight, it soothes.
Makes one fly from rues,
As time glides by crude.

Might make fruits or trees,
Bodies nude, or just knees.
Ev’ry lure you might see
On what pure sand breeds,
As I muse its seeds.

But I did admire
Its liquid fire

Dreams come and go disappear and return again
Something I can’t really express or explain
What can really work to release these painful memories?
I know I am not alone in this something triggers it
In my mind I hear it crying
Well, it’s better than dying
I feel so hypnotic
I feel so psychoneurotic
My dark matter becomes alive
Dislike of what I have…. this disease
Going through all my archives
Please have this all freeze
Opening my eyes in the night
Hearing echoes from my mind
Hearing myself as a child cry
Sleeping always seems to be declined
In my mind I hear it crying
Am I just to myself lying?
I feel so psychotic
Narcotic neurotic

My heart pours out,
My emotions spilled about.

My heart and tears,
it never mirrors.

Why don’t you feel the same?
The same emotions never came.

How can I care about you,
when you can’t care too?

It’s only me,
why can’t you see
I’m not immature like I used to be.

I told you this,
the emotional bliss.

You used to care,
Why can’t we be there?

Love is still just a word, slightly overused
I have a late curfew but that privilege gets abused
sometimes it’s cool just to kick it but I like to party
I get clowned for my intelligence, they always call me “Smarty”
I want to grow up and leave this small town
I want to go somewhere when word doesn’t get around
slower than these local girls who think it’s okay
to smoke so much weed and drink their problems away
if you get down on the mattress you’re famous in the halls
you don’t care till you’re pregnant, because they don’t have the balls
to stick around and take their responsibilities, as fathers
one day they’ll want to kill the fool who does it to his daughter
but I am young and life is fun
we live for the now, the here, and the happening
take too many risks, want relationships to end happily
in ceremonies of white, of love, and “won’t forget”
but they turn into hate, into long lost regrets