PoemsBrowse PoemsSlamsFresh DropEchoes
LearnWriting TipsPoetry TermsPoets & ArtistsBooksFor Teachers
ExplorePoetry GenomePoem MapEchoesTake ActionGroups
AboutWrite a PoemDonateSign UpLog In

I Am ... Hard as a Diamond


I am The Old One - the mixture of feelings, care and pulsing knowledge that turns insane.

I wonder how and when this world will shudder to its knees.

I hear the high -pitched laughter of the naive, playing and roaming the Earth, unknowing, and the sobs which pass through every life.

I see what everyone also sees: I slip into their bodies, becoming filled with their vision; I understand them.

I want my 911 Turbo to survive; I want to ease the shooting, curdling, pain of child labor for my patients.

I am The Old One - the mixture of feelings, care, and pulsing knowledge that turns insane.

 

I pretend to be what I am required to be: outgoing, happy, glamorous, glorious, fealess - strong.

I feel what they go through and thus try to make them flash teeth long absent of white; feeling it is long beyond the pin-prick of knowing what I/you/they/we did.

I touch the airy whiteness like cotton, but it scatters like little women when reached for, yet I am the knowing that thee will rise again.

I worry more poison will ouze form the Succubus, but shall this poison always reach me? Hurt me?

I cry at the time the stars glow their faces to my eyes, yet again when I feel like I can no longer be immortal- be my immortal.

I am The Old One - the mixture of feelings, care, and pulsing knowledge that turns insane.

 

I understand not only what life is, but what breaks us down, and tears us apart, rebuilds us stronger only to be broken up again; the cycle begins.

I say this too shall pass in remebrance of my phrase "For the love of the Lord."

I dream of reality, a reality made with knowledge, education, and dedication.

I try until the midnight ocean sparkles down my fat cheeks to manage the I Am life that is education in motherhood.

I hope that my life with my Porsche and loveable career will surround me until it smothers out the skeletons and demons that party n' rattle the closet they mock in.

I am The Old One - the mixture of feelings, care, and pulsing and knowledge that turns insane.

And One Day, Acuvue Oaysis clear, I will be misses with a Profession, certified superwoman, who saved herself by helping herself.

©All Rights Reserved

Something wrong with this poem?

Submitted to a slam

“One Job...May Change My Life Scholarship Slam - CLOSED”

Share

Replies are closed for this poem.

Your Poem's Voice

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (0)

No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.

Log in to leave a comment.