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 Jul 2016 gray rain
Stephan

A poem on writing
for that’s what I do
I write out a poem
to share it with you

I write about love
and I write about wishes
Cool summer nights
and warm tender kisses

I write about things
that are close to my heart
Just like my last poem
“I’m ready to start”
(Shameless plug)

I write about tears
and heart broken sorrow
A sunset tonight
and the sunrise tomorrow

Sometimes they are funny,
sometimes they are sad
And sometimes I lean
very close to the bad

I write about flowers
and gardens and trees
Hummingbirds, butterflies,
a soft flowing breeze

I write about stars
and the moon in the sky
The sun and the clouds
every day passing by

I write about snow
and I write about rain
A couple of times
I have written of pain

I write about oceans,
the waves and the shore
Sandcastles, seashells,
footprints and more

I write about music
on violin strings
Guitars and pianos
and melodic things

I write about hope
and I write about dreams
Walks out in nature
near slow moving streams

Won’t write about hate,
don’t like to cause trouble
I run from the subject
real fast, on the double

At times I am goofy
and act like a fool
But never use cuss words
to make me look cool

I don’t write in anger
or feature religion
Well, maybe sometimes,
perhaps just a smidgeon

But mostly I write
as thoughts do occur
And always those thoughts
seem to linger on her

I write so she smiles,
I write so she knows
That I’ll always love her
no matter what goes

I write my affection
so she has to see
That there is no other,
no other for me

I write from the heart
in hopes she will feel
This love that I send
and know it is real

For she is my angel,
my every desire
All I’d ever want
and all I require

So there now you have it
the things that I write
I hope you enjoy what
I’ve shared here tonight

And one final thing,
just a little note
Real soon I'll stop by
and read what you wrote
 Jul 2016 gray rain
taia
who am i?
 Jul 2016 gray rain
taia
i always wanted to believe in the goodness of people.
i always sought to find the light at the end of the tunnel.
i always strived to go above and beyond to make others happy.

but what was it all for?
in trying so hard to help everyone else,
i lost myself in the process.
who am i anymore?
i don't know my soul.

this person, this being, i don't know myself!
it was so frightening.
i'm trying to regain a sense of self awareness,
to find out who the **** i am.

but until then,
until i find every piece of the scavenger hunt,
please be patient with me.
i need some time for self discovery.
i don't know who i am anymore. it makes it very difficult to write.
 Jul 2016 gray rain
taia
not a day goes by
that i do not think of you
and how you left me
I’m not a poet
But you smell like
Those overused blue violets
And red roses
all she had to do was to hide--
how broken she was inside

it was that simple

but here she was:
pouring her heart out
crying out all the pain

not in the rain

she wiped her tears off
she felt better now--
fired a gunshot to her head.

it was that easy--
trickling blood
down the drain.
© Cyrille Octaviano
07/13/16
@ 9:48 pm
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