Prose Poetry-Wasted Days

Deeper than the fears that wrestled from within...

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The answers are no longer within my grasp

Wasted days,

I have wasted time.

I have dreamt of becoming more,

But I fear I have wasted my life.


I never thought about much,

As I gave myself away.

I never cared about who I was,

As he gave me my name.


Deeper than my fears that wrestled from within,

Was a fear of not knowing?

If there was enough reason,

I should dare to begin.


I am always on the edge of hearing the answers to what I have asked.

But as the tide flows in-

The answers are no longer within my grasp.


I have been angry at the world,

For reasons I do not understand.

I’ve been angry at myself,

For not being who it is I know I am.

Not sure where I am going or where I have been....

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My pen bleeds deep and stays put as I write.

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Descriptions of me and the story of my life.



I can’t be angry anymore,

For this anger is harsh.

It has taken away my ability to focus on the world.


I brush the fear off my sleeve,

And let my pen hit the pad.

I write about my hurt,

And give to words the fears that I have had.


Should I still bother to try,

Even when I feel I have already lost?

I am tired of paying dues,

For a high priced confusion with unbelievable cost.


Do I still keep an illusion of wisdom and truth?

Or has my soul let go of the hurt that I had chosen to use?


My pen bleeds deep and stays put as I write.

As I look down to my pen,

I begin to re-read my life.


Pages and Pictures,

Journals and Scribes,

They are descriptions of me and the journey of my life.


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Recreate the girl I once was-and I sometimes fear I still know.

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The lyrics of my life-

As they form into prose.

Recreate a girl I once was

And I sometimes fear I still know.


I look up at the light-

And I close my eyes

I can see the darkness-

I can feel the twilight.


Finally I feel my hopes,

As my pen continues to bleed.

I can reread the story of how I became me.


Fear of not fitting in,

A dream I once dreamt.

An illusion I created

To make all the sins form logic


I can no longer feel the hate

I see the definition of the lost

I don’t need the scribe I have written

To know what the story of my prose has ultimately cost.


Pages and Pictures

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No matter the prose, I describe in my words...

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I write and describe the story of my life.



I write and I describe,

The story of my life.

I give it my truth,

Careful it isn’t a lie.


No matter the prose,

I describe in my words.

I have become closer to what I once hoped.


Meddle in my life,

Chances I was the darkness I described.

I cannot chance the change,

Without changing the chance I took in my scribes.


I reread the story of how I became me,

I feel my hand tremble,

As I allow my pen to bleed.


The words flow like tears,

As I wipe them from a cheek,

I am no longer lost,

I have become a completed version of what use to be.


I look at the tears as they fall into ink,

I watch the colors run down,

I watch them run into the words of me.

I watch the colors run down into the words of me...

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Comments 14 comments

fen lander profile image

fen lander 5 years ago from Whitstable

Very beautiful Holly - thank you for being so honest about YOU. A soul-communication that reached my soul....


H.C Porter profile image

H.C Porter 5 years ago from Lone Star State Author

fen lander , thank you for the comment. I think i have a tougher time not being so honest in my writing to save face than I do putting it all out on the cutting block for everyone to judge. I am glad you enjoyed the poem and I greatly appreciate the feedback. Thank You!


AudreyHowitt profile image

AudreyHowitt 5 years ago from California

This must have been a difficult piece to write in some ways and maybe relieving in other ways---I think it is hard to write about the pain we feel and yet that pain makes for such good poetry--Take care, and I look forward to reading more of your work.


H.C Porter profile image

H.C Porter 5 years ago from Lone Star State Author

AudreyHowitt- thank you for your comment. making sure that the worlds are true reflections to the emotions I have felt are what can sometimes be a challenge. Some are easier to relay than others, and I am always trying to better myself through my writing-which can sometimes be a bot of a challenge as well :) thank you for reading and for the feedback, I appreciate the encouragement.


AudreyHowitt profile image

AudreyHowitt 5 years ago from California

It was my pleasure!


poshcoffeeco profile image

poshcoffeeco 5 years ago from Cambridgeshire

Holly,( The answers are no longer within my grasp ) This section is me today. It is just what I was thinking today. It could have been written for me. Awesome. The B&W pics are really good. Up/awesome


Ben Zoltak profile image

Ben Zoltak 5 years ago from Lake Mills, Jefferson County, Wisconsin USA

Ah so lovely, the rhythm of this poem carries us as readers with you, thanks for that. Great images too, you have a similar eye for strength in old things I think.

Always on the spot H.C.

Ben


H.C Porter profile image

H.C Porter 5 years ago from Lone Star State Author

poshcoffeeco , thanks for the comment- I apologize for the horrid delay in responding to your post- I dropped off the face of the earth, or so it seemed :) I am glad I could help you out with this poem, during a discouraging or emotional moment. Thanks for deciding to leave some feedback, I appreciate it!


H.C Porter profile image

H.C Porter 5 years ago from Lone Star State Author

Ben Zoltak - lol... I am an antique fool. I would rather have an item with a story and the worn edges to prove where it has been-than a sparkling new item off the store shelf in the newest mall. glad you found the poem and left the feedback :) I always appreciate the encouragement you provide :)


Ben Zoltak profile image

Ben Zoltak 5 years ago from Lake Mills, Jefferson County, Wisconsin USA

Your comment reminds me of the new London Fog leather jacket a father in law gave me. I said I would like it more if I dragged it behind a truck for a few miles. Why is that? Anyway, always a pleasure reading (and rereading) a Porter piece.


PDXKaraokeGuy profile image

PDXKaraokeGuy 4 years ago from Portland, Oregon

another great piece of work, and beautiful photos to boot!


H.C Porter profile image

H.C Porter 4 years ago from Lone Star State Author

Thanks Ben...lol... because if it was dragged through the mud...at least it would have a story behind it :)


H.C Porter profile image

H.C Porter 4 years ago from Lone Star State Author

PDXKaraokeGuy -Thank you for commenting... I appreciate the support and you taking the time to read my work :)


PDXKaraokeGuy profile image

PDXKaraokeGuy 4 years ago from Portland, Oregon

you're welcome!

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