Never Scarborough

You need not bring me cambric shirts,
woven with no seam.
No, I need not needlework
that never could be seen.

Take me not to Scarborough,
I'd rather have what's real.
Forgo the impossible,
for iron is not steel.

Bring me not dry water,
or, a feather from a bull.
Bear me not a daughter,
or, a lantern always full.

Love me simple,love me true.
When you wish,then, chide me too.
Do the things, you love to do,
even when, I'm down and blue.

Fear thee not to be yourself,
even when I need your help.
Set me shortly on the shelf,
If too much, I whine and yelp.

Take me to the mountain streams,
expand my mind and teach me things.
Listen to me as I sing
and hold me close when hell's bells ring.

Dry my shirt not on the thorns,
blossoms never shorn.
With it's roses never born,
oh how that bramble did mourn.

Bring me not dry land from sea,
acres of it I don't need.
Show me not the stones that bleed,
or the swine who never feed.

The only way that I would go,
to the fair of Scarborough,
is if my lover there would show,
then, anything, I would forego.

tired tears

i cry alone at night again just like i always do.
  can not take the pain of life i just want to be through.
all my loved ones please forgive me i can not go on.
everything is horrible and days are way too long.
know that it is nothing that you did or didn't do.
with my final words i want to say that I love you.

Here We Go Again!

As soon as I woke,
anxiety took,
ahold of my soul and it SQUEEZED.

The breath left my lungs,
a few tears met my eyes,
I laid in my bed and just cringed.

I forced myself slowly
to rise and survey,
the sun as it danced through the glass.

I thought to myself:
"every day that has be so thus far,
is now past".

I didn't feel better.
Not really, at all.
I just forced myself to move on.

Though things are bleak,
I will stand on my feet,
and march on along through the day.

My heart it is heavy,
my eyes they are weary,
I'm tired and sick and I'm sad.

Yet I know one day
if I just move along
I will reach the times that aren't so bad.

Feelings of stone

I am a lone stone
shattered from the firmament.
Once, I was a mountain.
An ancient edifice standing tall and proud.
Immovable, immutable and unchanging.
Upon high, my song soared through the clouds
and rained softly upon the fields at my feet.
My roots stretched far, one with all of the Earth.
I rumbled happily with my brothers.
Our orchestra played for eons.
Its soft slow resonance with megaannum movements.
I paid no attention to the ice, wind, or rain,
shrugging them off with a grinding shout.
But even mountains die,
ground down by the indifference of time.
Then, I split away, from myself.
A victim of cold fingers tearing at my face.
The pain shook me as I fell, screaming at the loss of entirety.
no longer, could I feel the great Earth.
Detached, I sit upon the ground, staring up at what I was,
Slowly becoming soil.
I am a stone,
and I wail here, alone.

I no longer care

Damn it all!
I just don't care!
My heart stripped down so cold and bare.
Nothing left for me to do
But sit in anguish as I fume.
I will vent my misery
And don't care if the whole world sees!

Open door

I suppose I'm a broken record.
The same tired lines,
repeated over and over.
Do you really believe,
I'm an ever open door?
I won't leave it open forever.
In fact, it's already closing.
Resigned,
to the inevitable end.