August 11, 2011 in Poetry
Tell me what this is about.
How can this be so?
31 deaths mean nothing to you.
Yes you give a pause and a tear,
but they are not real.
You brought a photographer along,
For your own gain.
From triple A to double A.
Best country in the world is thrown under a bus.
Where homeless and penniless,
But the green keeps flowing.
The second best country in the world is shedding blood on its own streets.
There flames growing,
leaping from cars to building,
people screaming in pain, being robbed by fakes, pretending to help.
Tell me what is this all about!
Why is this all happening.
None of it makes any sense.
The pain and suffering of those.
Why have you used those deaths to employ your own gain?
Why aren’t you crying for them?
Do you even care?
The pain of the green has mixed with the pain of the red.
Expanding over an Atlantic ocean.
Brothers and sisters dieing, not just in war in another country.
The streets run with blood, whether its green or red.
It’s not that of which we can understand.
Not what I can comprehend!
So tell me why!
Why do I have to cry for those that no one else will shed some salty water for?
Tell me why I have to sit and stare, as the greatest nations to hit this warm rocky planet have to fall before my eyes.
And all I can do is cry.
And watch as my brothers and sisters die in a war that is long forgotten.
As the green blood of this country is bleed out in a disoriented congress.
And fire ruined the best streets that I’ll never step on.
So I’ll stand and watch just like everyone else,
But I will be the only one that is crying on her knees,
Knowing there is nothing I can do….
August 10, 2011 in Poetry
Please tell me what all of this means!
It’s confusion and pain with in my brain.
Wrapping its tentacles around my shines pulling me deeper and deeper into it.
None of it makes sense,
like when you take time to ponder why you would price something a $1.01.
None of it makes sense.
Why can’t you explain this to me?
Why can’t you tell me why?
The confusion it hurts too much to even wonder!
Tell me why do I sit her and wonder.
Why do I sit her and cry the tears of oil that leak from the old broken down Chevy in the driveway?
Why do I hurt as if a had been tied by barbed wire and dragged behind a car, its exhaust fumes filling my lungs.
What does it mean?
Why doesn’t it make any sense!
Why can’t you tell me this simple life saving fact?
Why are you the only one that gets to live?
Last edited by Aileen Maltese on August 11, 2011, 8:40 pm
August 10, 2011 in Poetry
The words are just standard notions that slip from your lips. Simple. Easy to say. But harder to act upon. You don’t wish for that. There was never a friendship. Not for years. They spill from your lips like acid melting your facade. Just simple lies is all you know how to spill. To bad I know the truth…
Last edited by Aileen Maltese on August 10, 2011, 10:52 pm
August 8, 2011 in Poetry
The name is simple.
Yet you seam to forget it.
The word just slips from your tong.
Like a knife cutting through my heart.
You don’t seam to get it.
You don’t even seam to care,
That is not my name.
You go on like nothing had ever happened.
You just walk away.
You’ll only do it again.
That word will only slip off your tong at another time.
Why don’t you seem to get it?
Why don’t you understand that I hate it when you call me that!
I have my own name!
So why do you call me my brothers names?
Last edited by Aileen Maltese on August 9, 2011, 3:58 pm