Poetry- How will the pages be turned?
It doesn't matter the moment or the weather of the day
Silent and Still
She sinks into her chair-
By the window with gold glistening in her long brown hair.
She reads and she dreams,
She stays silent and still,
As the words in her books make her feel real.
She can sing-she can fly, she is innocent, she feels alive.
It doesn’t matter the moment, or the weather of the day-
She can sit by the window and let the words take her far away.
As the day turns to dusk and she realizes the time-
She feels the stories she read and she escapes from her truths and her lies.
Time to play pretend as her world must be let in.
The reality of her choices-the truth that she hates,
The seemingly unpredictable knowledge,
That her books don’t reflect who she is today.
If I could escape to a story in time,
Would I write the words or would the words control my life?
If I wrote a story of a woman I thought I once was,
Would the story fill the pages and how would the pages be turned?
She sits by the window as darkness fills the air,
She reads through her tears and the hopes she hasn’t found here.
These are just words-come back to this world,
She closes her book and is left with a life that has been misunderstood.
It isn’t about me,
Or how I don’t try.
It is about the truth of how she is, and how she gets away with her lies.
A secret left to cover, one never to be told,
She is starving for the answers to the questions that won’t ever make her feel full.
If I could see past the darkness- the horror of my demise,
I wouldn’t be starving for these words to change the reality of my misunderstood life.
They are only words-no answers in what is confused,
This is the story of a life that has taken too much abuse.
And so her story begins in the pages of a book,
She reads by the window and creates a world she doesn’t know.
No kiss on a cheek,
Or weakness in love stricken trembling knees.
Just the voices she hears,
From the words of a page.
In a book she is writing to remember,
That she once had her own name.
More Prose Poetry By HC Porter
- Prose Poetry- Kept in a box of secrets
Prose Poetry Online by HC Porter Kept in a box of secrets reflects the journey of life and becoming oneself, despite the mistakes you make to keep yourself stagnant in life.
- Prose Poetry-Wasted Days
How would you view the story of your life if your re-read it? Wasted Days is the review of life as it was written and felt by the writer. Prose Poetry By H.C Porter.
- Prose Poetry- As the Violins Play in the Background
HC Porter writes more Prose Poetry with stunning imagery from both words and pictorial displays. Prose Poetry on HubPages.com, by HC Porter
More by this Author
A Poem By Holly Chaffin- As we grow older we often forget what it is like to be a child, as a parent we are introduced to magic once again. Here is some childhood magic I have gained back from my kids
Personality Types by H.C Porter How many different personality traits are there in this world? Which are you? How many do you know?
Everyone has heard the saying, Men are Dogs. But have you ever really considered the similarities between Men and Dogs, I have...