Pondering my dark and light side
I so often step in between light and darkness
When shining bright, I reach out
And spread warmth to any I can
Hungrily the masses reach toward me
Plucking every ray within their grasp
Devouring and hoarding what warmth they can
And soon I descend back into the abyss again
But this is when I truly inspire awe
And all those who remember my brilliance
Marvel at how what was once so lustrous
Could survive and move amongst such shadow
But they do not know the cause of my duality
It was living so long in darkness
That taught me how to create my own light
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https://camgarnes.medium.com/morning-after-blues-480957703f39
A poem on waking up alone again.
I know the sky is grey today
I can tell from the soft way
My tightly drawn curtains sway
From the cold feeling that overtakes me as I lay
Dreams of you are stirred from their resting place
By the path in the bed that my fingers trace
I wish you would’ve stayed
Because now only melancholy souls occupy this space
But I know this feeling is just the aftertaste
Of last night’s mistakes
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At a different time and in a different place, maybe I could've been…
I’ve found it best to be upfront
I just can’t be the one you want
See I’ve loved, and been hurt before
And I promised my heart there’d be no more
It seems that pain is all I’ve been taught
I have yet to atone for the pain I’ve wrought
The hearts that were hurt in response
Now I wrestle with sleepless nights
And my darkest thoughts overtake all light
So I won’t pretend to be the one you want
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What part of the plane are you?
I wonder what part of the plane I am
Turbine, wing, cabin?
No, if I were to relate to one
I’d be the lavatory
People come and go in my life
They enter and relieve their burdens
And I take them in
I offer solitude and sanctuary
They wash and leave refreshed
I’ve been used again, but I don’t mind
Because when not in use I am left empty
Except if they forget to flush…
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A poem for the strength of the spirit.
May my heart remain steady
When the tragedies are many
May my mind stay ready
When my mistakes are plenty
I pray my spirit does not grow heavy
As I suffer through another sad memory
I pray I remain strong
When those I love, do me wrong
Thank you for…
A poem about the simple joys of Saturdays of the past.
Kids today don’t know
The joys of Saturday morning
Waking up unsolicited at dawn
Not roused by a blaring alarm
Or the shaking of a stern mother
They won’t understand the thrill
Of racing downstairs to the TV
To finally be surrounded by heroes again
After the endless toiling of the school week
There…
