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Lydia's Poems; Some poems written by Lydia C.
Topic Started: Oct 12 2011, 08:39 PM (69 Views)
Pulchrafilia
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Lion Ink V-P
These poems were all written at various times, and I am now reposting them in the archives, so more people can read them :)

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They are all rated E, as they are not aimed for children, yet have no objectionable material in them.

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When Do We Begin?

The End.
Isn’t that how it normally goes
Starting at the end

Needing just a little help from others
It’s left to us to decide which way is up
With so much potential waiting to burst forth

Caged by what society claims is right
What we do seems so pointless in the end
Life goes on, and on - why do we care

Is our whole perception skewed
Out of proportion
It’s amazing how large small things can grow

Such cloudy thoughts
So many things were in the way
Now it can begin.
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A Forgotten World


A carpet spread for giants to walk on,
Treasure vast; for kings to scorn.

A painting so intricate, and ever-changing;
Artwork that is continually ignored.

A roof made to keep all things alive,
Light that is blocked on every side.

A story that interacts with all who watch,
Something that is considered commonly dull.

A breath-taking scene, created with love,
Space that is taken, trashed, and shunned.

A home for all who care or not;
Dreams forgotten and beauty lost.

A view of something more, a promise,
Excuses created to escape this Truth.

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The Desert's Passage


A curve, a bend;
An unknown end.

Barely changing scenes,
Hidden by the sun’s bright screen.

Cliffs that touch the sky,
Warriors refusing to wonder why.

A whispering thought
Of a battle being fought.

Going towards the light,
The only goal in sight.

Hope that refuses to falter,
A thirst for more than water.

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A Tower

A tower amidst a field,
Surrounded by trees;
Perhaps the only shield
Against unknown enemies.

A tower between many lands
Afraid of all others,
Having no ready plans;
Refusing to hide or cower

A tower abandoned by all,
Yet having a purpose;
Without any wall,
Like every one of us.

A tower standing alone,
Asking for no aid,
Having no home,
Refusing to be afraid

A tower under a vast sky,
Watching for a lark;
Abandoning the question why
It’s never alone in the dark.

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A Single Night

A single footstep in the dried mud,
A single cry swallowed by the dense trees,
A single owl watching from his perch.

A single thought never given true life,
A single goal so close to being reached,
A single pain never eased with joy.

A single flower trying to grow in darkness,
A single moonbeam shining on red,
A single night that never reveals its secrets.

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The Cry of the Lost
(an experiment of sort: the lines can be read straight through, or from comma to comma)

Reaching for the heavens, we fell

Fearing failure, we ran till death

Despairing, we searched for lost purpose

Seeing love, we longed for acceptance

Longing to laugh, we faked smiles

Wishing for something greater, we jumped

Crying for help, we were abandoned

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Peace or Grief

What should one call peace?
Is it floating as free as a leaf,
Is it the softness and warmth of fleece,
Or even just the absence of grief?

How should one find happiness?
Could it be as simply as carelessness,
Or perhaps the lack of sadness;
Ignoring the sense of uselessness?

Looking both ways before starting
Might be a way to put off waiting;
Yet can only prolong the grieving,
And increase the length of suffering.


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Painful Compassion


I know that if I held their burden,
Even the smallest portion,
I would be crushed by the weight;
Unable to take a breath.

Why then do I feel so compelled,
Why does my soul long,
To take their pain upon myself;
To erase their suffering?

My strength is so insignificant,
Not able to save myself,
Why then do I still have this wish;
What could I possibly do?

No wishful thinking on my part,
No simple compassion,
Could ever begin to change facts;
Problems can’t dissipate.

My strength refuses to be shared,
Even as weak as it is,
No matter how much I long to help;
Never do I do any good.

Why is this feeling in my heart,
Refusing to go away,
Why does reason lose to this;
This longing to help.

Perhaps this is how another felt,
If only a small taste,
But I can’t go through with it;
If only I were enough.

But I am not enough to help,
And never will be,
I cannot rely on my strength;
Much less help others.

But yet I am being supported,
Even my own frailty,
I know I am not by myself;
I am loved by strength.

If I myself am a recipient of this,
I can only hope,
I do not have to be enough;
For we are never alone.
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