Author Archives: Natural_Born_Momma

Life isn’t a fairytale,

In real life, there will be hail,

There will be tears,

And very great fears;

But we’ve got to keep holding on,

Before everything we have and love is gone;

Life will taste sour and sweet,

You will see some things crazy, yet neat;

The banging of hail will ruin your thoughts,

The sounds of laughter and anger is brought,

You can smell nature,

As adolescents grow and mothers nurture;

Green grass blooms, but danger still looms,

Stand back and watch nature grow,

Creating life over and over as winds blow;

Life isn’t a fairytale,                           

Remember, there will be fails,

This isn’t like the stories you hear,

This is very real and dear.

The air is dark and gloomy,

too cool for mosquitoes and fireflies.

So much to do and ponder,

yet, I can’t get you off my mind.

I can’t help but wander,

if you’ll ever truly come back like you inclined.

You created an image of everlast,

everlast which I know I will never again find.

Deep deep in my soul there’s still every bit of feeling.

When I’m not with you, my heart is cold.

You are nothing but an “X”,

But yet you set the standards if there were to be another.

Why am I always passed?

How can I cross that threshold?

Who will ever compare?

When will you come back?

The banging and beating is driving me insane,

it won’t stop, my mind is so vain.

The amount of emotion you control in me is aching,

Without its leader, how can my heart move forward?

Side note: This poem was published in a book by Newman University when I was attending there. I turned this poem in as an assignment in my poetry class and my professor enjoyed it so much that he had it entered in to see if it could be published in the book that the school creates each year filled with the best poetry, shorts stories, and photography done by students.

I lay back against my pillow,

I let the pain drain from my lap,

The simple touch of pain releases it all,

I let the song of sweet sparrows fill my mind,

It releases all of the mental pain,

The pain of feeling nothing,

Of being completely empty,

With loneliness as my parents,

And my beloved bed is my only friend,

I am hushed,

My face, constantly flushed,

With the pink of embarrassment,

The fear of saying the wrong thing,

The fear of being the wrong thing,

By day, I am hit with arrows,

The arrows of everyone surrounded,

The sparrows begin to drive me insane,

All feelings must be oppressed,

Until all of the suffering is recessed,

At night, I lay awake,

Contemplating whether I should draw again,

The art of one straight line after another,

And another,

And another,

Knowing this time could be the end,

I must allow the torture a break,

Is it possible to love someone like me?

Ruined by a cursing past? 

A past full of beating, anger, and poison,

Terrified every lonely breath could be my last,

The songs change, adding to my pain,

Reminding me of a sickening past,

Finally, I am saved,

A promise was made,

A work of art now covers the cicatrix

It’s a whole new way for the pain to be fixed,

I was kissed by sweet sparrows,

Only to be shot down by painful arrows,

Now it all seems okay,

All of the pain, has finally faded away.