Poetry

A Friend

I walked along a lonesome road

With no one by my side

I carried such a heavy load

With no one to confide

My chest grew heavy with the weight

I carried in my heart

The road I walked was far from straight

But crooked from the start

And then someone came walking by

They stopped and took my load

My weight was lifted, I could fly

And leave that winding road

The road below became so clear

My way I then could find

All this because a friend was near

Who heard and didn't mind

 

 

The Mark

Aloneness is a shadow dark

That overlooks us all

It touches each to leave its mark

Of terror on the wall

 

 

THE HOUSE

Standing high upon the hill

Its features cold and gray

A house that held inside its walls

A child who could not play

She could not play for she was but

A prisoner in a cell

Who had to do what she was told

But never could she tell

Not only could she never tell

But never could she see

The way that other children played

The way that it should be

To play as if a beauty queen

With powder and a purse

Or mending scratches on a doll

Just like a real life nurse

Her world was but a darkened room

Madness filled the air

To see if for the way it was

Her mind would never dare

So now she's gotten far away

But peace she'll never find

For terrors hidden in the house

Now hide inside her mind