Poems I Recently Wrote

Despair's Prison
copyright Sharon R. Poet 10/1/2022

My despair thrust itself 

Against it's prison's pane, 

With withered Hope 

And no saving rope 

To soothe away it's bane, 

Then wove it's way 

With nothing to say 

Through heavy drops of rain, 

That dare to fall 

And fail to stall 

Over and over and over again. 

 But it searches still, 

With all it's sight, 

Through twisted webs 

 And darkened ebbs, 

For the needed Light. 

Is it there - does it exist 

Or must it remain sorely missed? 

Will there ever be an end 

To their relentless night?

Web of Deception 

copyright Sharon R. Poet 10/2/2022

They weaved their web inside my dream 

As well as in my tortured life. 

Concealing darkness that snuck in 

To compound my strife. 

Its happened before and may again 

But I hope it never will. 

There has to be a real Light 

Somewhere beyond that hill.

Fantasies 

copyright Sharon R. Poet 10/2/2022

Freedom reins in my fatasies 

Around my heart's aching bleeds 

And my soul's unfilled needs. 

Perhaps someday it will be real - 

Something I can fully feel.

Hidden Knife 

copyright Sharon R. Poet 10/2/2022

If they could care 

 To leave the mask 

Inside an unused task, 

And cast aside the 

Hidden knife, 

The hell could end 

And heart may send 

 It in to save my life.

The Return

copyright Sharon R. Poet 10/2/2022

When I write out my rhymes 

Its a returning to my Self 

And the memories of times 

When freedom was not a wish 

But something that was mine. 

Did that freedom truly exist 

In any of the sorted past? 

If it did it did not last. 

But perhaps it will return 

In lessons we must learn.

Emily's Mother

copyright 10-1-2022 Sharon R. Poet

She gasped one breath 

Before her death 

Dared to finally fall. 

Tears that fell 

Came to wish her well 

Through the final call.

Dear Emily copyright

Sharon R. Poet 10/2/2022

Writing our hearts 

Is something we must do. 

It is true. 

I can so relate to you. 

I lack your education, 

But we are still alike 

Even as victims of a dark 

That swung around to strike. 

Our "childish" rhymes 

Could reach the times 

In hearts we could touch. 

We must not let "intellect" 

Interfere so much.