CHROME.

Concealed inside this reflection,
Have you ever seen yourself for real,
Random thoughts pose questions,
Of whether what your viewing can feel,
Maybe your just in someones head,
Eventually to be forgotten and concealed.

Written 28/12/2009 0115am.
Pathos

This.

This and that,
Goes through my mind,
I think about it all,

Of wars and bombs,
And modern tech,
It makes one feel so small,

I ponder what our future holds,
If humans will make it,
It's hard to see our path,

We've stolen all the cobblestones,
And sold them on eBay,
We even made off with the grass,

We wonder why the worlds changing,
And some of it's our fault,
Though maybe not as much as we think,

The world is going to outlast us,
By a very long way,
So this is yet another brink,

But like always the world will make it,
A little battered and bruised,
And with fewer of us here to pollute,

Almost makes you want to see that now,
To see a world without us ruining it,
Now that would be just beaut.

Written 28/12/2009 at 0259am. Just started with the word This and went from there. My poetic self sure is a bloody Greeny, LOL.

Swan Song.

When the end creeps closer,
And the sun goes down,
Ready to end the day,
With grace and a smile,

You will know what peace is,
And you'll no longer fear,
There's no more to worry about,
The angel of death is here,

He seems more gentle,
Than what you had imagined,
A calm flows over your emotions,
As you follow him along,

Opening to a serenity,
A place you'll not want to leave,
A wish for those you leave behind,
That they don't hurt too much to see,

The light that shows the way,
To the place you hope someday they'll find,
Not the thoughts of loss and anguish,
That now cloud up their mind,

The hope that someday they will find you,
They'll no longer have to wait,
When they see you standing silent,
Waiting for them next to a pearly gate.

Written 31/12/2009 11:30am. In 15 min. Just something that jumped out when I cleared a note and had room to type something.

The Cycle.

The family gathers,
By their side,
A somber mood from all,

A loved one waits,
By St Peters gates,
Until he gets the call,

So many people,
Come and go,
This life it was so loved,

Free of will they come by,
To pay respects,
Nobody pushed or shoved,

A life lived well,
They all agree,
An innings to be proud of,

Seen and done,
So much while here,
Of this could be no doubt of,

But now they lay,
Silent in bed,
As the reaper makes his round,

All at once,
A sigh of release,
As the sickle comes on down,

A quiet moment,
Before the wail,
To say they're on their way,

Fret not the sickle fall,
They'd say to all,
For I have had my day,

To all those left behind,
Fear not the end,
One day it'll be our turn,

Live your life free of fear,
Of the end that is near,
Let the light in your soul eternally burn.

Written in 20minutes 06/01/2010 at 18:06pm.
Inspired by the many visitors day after day as a man in palliative care, ebbed closer to the end. May he rest in peace. He died while I was writing this poem.

Direction.

Innocence lost,
Innocence taken,
One for love,
One forsaken,

Careful the path,
On which you travel,
Choose the right way,
Lest life unravel,

The darkness it hides,
Inside us all,
Obscured by light,
Even if small,

Choices we make,
Can be our friend,
Or soon lead us,
To our end,

Love is the savior,
The true path of light,
Follow it home,
Be safe from night.

Written at 22:20pm on the 29/10/2007 and typed up after finding the envelope I wrote it on, at 17:46pm on the 30/01/2010.

I have been writing stuff, I just haven't uploaded anything for a while.