Tapers
Two tapers in a dark room can only be seen
By the watcher
He stares in adoration
Of her
Of complete pride
His young thing
The angels themselves covet
The soft glow kisses her flawless skin
They dance on her features so strikingly
They love her
She knows they do
Only this sweet thing could have fallen
From god's hands himself
Complete sweetness drips
From the very tips of her fingers
As he tastes them one by one
Enticed
Enthralled
Entranced
Full of life and promise
Her very being delighted in his presence
The earth itself would bow down
If it could
Both waiting for more
A future
Plans take way in blissfulness
Hopeful
And filled
He only speaks of her as a goddess
He speaks of her as his own
She knows it
She has him now
Shards
While in the shadows away from any luminosity
Sits a jaded forgettable creature
Green of envy pours down those pale used cheeks
She looks through to him
With empty reliance
But full redress
Feeling the years triple past her age
And it surfaces incredibly well
She watches in her corner
he sees nothing for her anymore
She feels the cold set in
Into her very bones
She knows it
Her plans crushed under heavy tainted ness
Empty
And alone
She feels it in the words
Trailing from his lips
Venom
Vileness
Vexation
The warmth she was worthy through his arms is gone
It's restricted and distant
The warmth now is replaced
By the hell bound palace
Of her mind
The very thought of rising
Shot down
And reprimanded
Picking up the shards
Off the floor
That once was a heart
Watching the edges cut the life free
From her fingers
She knows she's ugly
Forgotten
Put away
She would do without reminders
But reminded over and over
She had him once
Two tapers in a dark room can only be seen
By the watcher
He stares in adoration
Of her
Of complete pride
His young thing
The angels themselves covet
The soft glow kisses her flawless skin
They dance on her features so strikingly
They love her
She knows they do
Only this sweet thing could have fallen
From god's hands himself
Complete sweetness drips
From the very tips of her fingers
As he tastes them one by one
Enticed
Enthralled
Entranced
Full of life and promise
Her very being delighted in his presence
The earth itself would bow down
If it could
Both waiting for more
A future
Plans take way in blissfulness
Hopeful
And filled
He only speaks of her as a goddess
He speaks of her as his own
She knows it
She has him now
Shards
While in the shadows away from any luminosity
Sits a jaded forgettable creature
Green of envy pours down those pale used cheeks
She looks through to him
With empty reliance
But full redress
Feeling the years triple past her age
And it surfaces incredibly well
She watches in her corner
he sees nothing for her anymore
She feels the cold set in
Into her very bones
She knows it
Her plans crushed under heavy tainted ness
Empty
And alone
She feels it in the words
Trailing from his lips
Venom
Vileness
Vexation
The warmth she was worthy through his arms is gone
It's restricted and distant
The warmth now is replaced
By the hell bound palace
Of her mind
The very thought of rising
Shot down
And reprimanded
Picking up the shards
Off the floor
That once was a heart
Watching the edges cut the life free
From her fingers
She knows she's ugly
Forgotten
Put away
She would do without reminders
But reminded over and over
She had him once
If no one ever marries me,—
And I don’t see why they should,
For nurse says I’m not pretty,
And I’m seldom very good—
If no one ever marries me
I shan’t mind very much;
I shall buy a squirrel in a cage,
And a little rabbit-hutch:
I shall have a cottage near a wood,
And a pony all my own,
And a little lamb quite clean and tame,
That I can take to town:
And when I’m getting really old,—
At twenty-eight or nine—
I shall buy a little orphan-girl
And bring her up as mine.
—Laurence Alma-Tadema
And I don’t see why they should,
For nurse says I’m not pretty,
And I’m seldom very good—
If no one ever marries me
I shan’t mind very much;
I shall buy a squirrel in a cage,
And a little rabbit-hutch:
I shall have a cottage near a wood,
And a pony all my own,
And a little lamb quite clean and tame,
That I can take to town:
And when I’m getting really old,—
At twenty-eight or nine—
I shall buy a little orphan-girl
And bring her up as mine.
—Laurence Alma-Tadema
I may only be One Voice,
But my One Voice is important because without my One Voice we could never have one million Voices.
my one Voice stands for ME.
what I think.
what I believe in.
and who I am.
My Voice is unique
But so is every other Voice
and every Voice is important*
So let your Voice be heard, be One in a million Voices
*not part of the original poem:
Important because millions of voices can create a defaning roar.