The Poetic Voyage - Poetry Of Life's Journey

The wind blows, as usual they say, She feels a difference, she feels pain, The sun rises, each and every day, Unlike the rest, she feels a weight. The gloomy skies, began to cry, Bathed in the tears, she was filled with joy, The night sky, decorated with fairy lights, Made her dream, of butterflies. The skies, enjoyed her shouts of joy, For no reason at all, each day the sky cried, To bring down joy, to a heart that's mild, But instead, she cried, cause her tears doesn't dry. The sun took the turn, and chose to shine, To dry her tears, to inquire why, Instead of the sorrow, in her eyes was a light, Brighter than the rays, of the sun that rise. The fairy lights, of the night sky, Accompanied her, each and every night, Instead of dreaming, of butterflies, She feared the night, where demons hide. Once again, the winds blew, Instead of pain, an arch she drew, With her lips pointing, to the skies, It was not fake, but a ge...

She woke up, this morning, At 3 am, so clueless, So sleepy, but sleepless, "Go to sleep, with my teddy hug", Said teddy, but those attempts, was useless. Her mom came in, this morning, "Good morning, wake up my darling", While she was wide awake, trying hard, To go back to sleep, with a teddy hug, At the door she heard, her Jenny bark. While she sits, in the dark, She peeps outside, to find the stars, Instead she sees, the rays of the sun, "God, please let, this day be fun", On her feet, she starts the run. Off to work, in a speedy bus, At the annoying hour, of Mr. Rush, She saw a road, so quiet and dull, It's time to sleep, it's okay, but how? There was a lot on the internet, a lot to be done. Scrolling the feed, up and down, Listening to, her favorite song, Ms. Sleep began, to shut the lids, While the mobile escaped, her fingertips, Her friend told her, it's time to get off. ...

He entered, She saw, There were butterflies, She didn't show, But turned away, Played pretend. He passed by, She sat still, Her friends giggled, She turned pink. He's watching, They said, Turn back, Her heart cried, She couldn't, Oh, these butterflies. He passed by, She sat still, Her friends giggled, She turned pink. He's walking around, They said, She began to dive deep, Into her thoughts, She did turn pink, But managed, to hide her laugh. He passed by, She sat still, Her Friends giggled, She turned pink. She left the room, But came back, Stood outside, Knew it was wrong, But oh, these butterflies, Once again, she left with the crowd. She passed by, He sat still, Pulled out his phone, She heard, a heart cry, Along with her own. -Debra R. N. Ludwick-

The world is a confusion, It's true, I know, But please, let me confuse you, A little bit more, With a thought, that fades her heart, Then makes it glow, And makes her realize, in the storm, Is where she'll grow. Let's talk about a bear, Two colors, opposite to each other, One pitch dark, as charcoal, And the other white, as snow, On the trees, in the forest, They climb and aimlessly roam, Oh how relatable, To her panda on the phone. Let's talk about pride, It continues to fight, With you, and your own, But shedding a bitter, and heavy tear, For a million minuets, that blow, In the wind, and melt like the snow, I would say maybe it's not pride but fear. You'll never know. Let's talk about a smile, That's hidden under the snow, A sweet smile, under the snow white fur, Of her panda on the phone, You'll not see it well, Unless you look very close, A sneak peak maybe, Cause her panda ...

In this world of mine, The sun chose to shine, On the pretty blue skies, Even though, the people cried. The rain poured down, When the sky chose to frown, On the wet muddy ground, Even though, we wore pretty gowns. Informative boards, Where the trees used to grow, On the busy, dusty roads, Even though, we stick to our phones. A pretty, clever girl, She's out of this world, With her golden hair curled, Even though, her heart burned. A thin short boy, Who never had a toy, He saw his dreams destroy, Even though, he seems to enjoy. The things I see, I wrote, From one side of the globe, About the paths, I've rode, Awaiting for a stranger's note, Who dwells in my world, On the other side of the globe. -Debra R. N. Ludwick-