Redux
i slowly unwrapped the darkness from my shoulders
my future
in the cards it seems
the possible
what is determined by me it seems
but is it
i want the control
is it really mine
Originally posted on 8/15/2018, I Write Her. Published here with revisions.
it was outrage
validating your feelings
but forgiveness tells you
the fury’s no longer needed
the anger felt like a best friend
your shield
who can now leave your side
because she knows you got this
letting it go
feeling yourself lift
becoming unburdened from the past
a healing has begun
Out of Context
Herein lies truth
Herein truth lies
Maybe uncouth
But no surprise
The twisted word
is made absurd
to spout with doubt
We Can’t Go Back
The past is gone
The future hails
with each new dawn
To what avail
Come with me now
and we’ll see how
we fit in it
Life’s Unfairness
We’ll all agree
life is not fair
Why should it be
We’re all just there
It sucks a lot
But sometimes not
when there’s love’s cares
Stephen W. Buchanan is someone who enjoys writing poems. He found he especially enjoyed writing ha’sonnets when the form was invented and has been told he writes them well. He publishes his ha’sonnets at “If You Haven’t Got A Sonnet” and occasionally elsewhere, often with a cat on his lap.
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one last time
a slow stroll
rising up the stairs
feeling the worn railing
under my hands
gliding on the smoothness
of years waxed
with the oils of progeny
peering into the empty bedrooms
faintly hearing the cacophony
of my giggling girls
from ancient slumber parties
the distant laughter
echoing in the corners
what the walls have heard
of childhood secrets
turning to the future
gently placing one foot
down in front of the other
thank you, safe haven
i’ll treasure the memories
as one last sigh escapes
and one tear travels down
i say goodbye
Awakening to a new day, yesterday’s anxiety shrouded in hope.
Image Credit – Unknown Creator
I slowly unwrapped the darkness from my shoulders.
My future, in the cards. It seems.
The possible, what is determined by me. It seems.
Is it?
I want the control.
Is it really mine?
I Write Her 