Friends
Making new friends is like
Being reborn for which
True friends
Are as if you’ve become
Blood related
All in your own choosing
The friends that stay a life time
Are as close to you as a
A brother or sister
But
The friends that come and go
Are just another faze that
You’ll go through and come out of
Picking your friends is as crucial
As picking your religion
For witch both will and can
Change you life
Save your life
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poem by Mrs. Cynosure
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Her
The mountains
The rivers
The streams
All show us beauty
Yet she is more beautiful than
Anything on earth
As I ride past them all I began to think
About how lucky I am to have her
In my life
She is more precious then treasure to me
My own life isn’t even worth
A second of hers
She tells me that she love’s me
Does she really ever
Mean it
She will always hold my heart
In her hand
Each time she says
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poem by Mrs. Cynosure
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One Day
One day I will go to either heaven or hell
One day I will give a rip about my grandma’s death
One day I will tell my mom that I love her and really mean it
One day one day my horse will be better
One day bandit will feel no more pain
One day I will see my real dad again
One day I will tell you how I really feel about you
One day I will travel to the end of the world
One day I will meet the greatest baseball players
One day I will have to pay for what I’ve done
One day I’ll have a cupule of kids
One day I will make things happen
One day I’ll change someone’s mind
One day I will change someone’s life
One day when I wake up my loving husband will be there
One day I will get married to the greatest man on earth
One day I will loose my virginity
One day I’ll have my first puppy
One day I’ll have my own ranch of my own
One day I’ll live at my own place with my man
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poem by Mrs. Cynosure
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Are You Jealous?
Waking up in the morning,
Getting ready for the day,
You wish you were me.
Listening to his soft voice,
Telling you Baby I don’t hate you,
Don’t you? You do, I know it’s true.
Don’t you lie to me.
You wish it was you he was calling,
Just to say hi.
But it’s my number he is dialing,
Every night,
Yet, you wish it was yours.
Only my man can drive a woman that crazy,
Without even trying.
This is one of the many reasons,
You can’t stand to talk to me,
When he’s writing letters of love,
Do your eyes water with tears of jealousy?
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poem by Mrs. Cynosure
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The True Me
The me that wants to fall in love,
Not spend another night in a,
Lustful bed.
The one that is deaf,
Because of her mothers hate cries.
The me that takes the word danger with a grain of salt,
And will try anything once.
If not killed might try it again.
The one that really thinks she is beautiful and sexy,
And enjoys getting dressed up,
Because then someone might notice her.
The me that is a broken and fallen angel,
Picking up all the pieces.
But needs your hand to learn how to start,
Putting them back together again.
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poem by Mrs. Cynosure
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No Phone, No Computer—5 days
I going crazy, I might lose my mind.
This morning my mother says,
No phone no computer for five days,
There is a problem at the station.
I laughed until I saw she wasn’t laughing with me,
Then I wanted to cry.
No Phone No Computer for five days,
That is what they said.
I am beginning to pace and check the phone,
For a dial tone every now and again,
I have taken up writing about anything,
I am so board and the scary part is,
This is only day one.
Welcome readers to day two.
I woke up checked the phone,
Ate, took a shower, then checked it again.
Tapping my fingers and playing games on the desktop,
Looking through old photos,
Writing silly poems that I will never keep,
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poem by Mrs. Cynosure
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I Am
Shaking that blue eyed strangers hand,
Him asking what I am,
I am a person of morals,
With nothing to show for it.
I am the girl wondering the halls alone,
Wanting someone to care.
I am the answer to his betrayed heart,
But still looking for my question.
I am the 30 year old women without a lover,
As I can see everyone tie the knot that I know.
I am the unfertile women,
That dreams of a big family of my own.
I am the pilot of the plane,
Without a co-pilot.
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poem by Mrs. Cynosure
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My Baby Girl
you are my first baby girl
and have been for two months
but as you lay by my side
thoughts grow wildly
about your past
present and
future
I can not change what as already happened
but for now I am trying
to make your life the best it can be
I hope I’m doing the right thing
for then and only then
will I start to
change your future
and mine
if everything goes my way
then we wont be apart for more then
a cupule of years at a time
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poem by Mrs. Cynosure
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Thank You My Love
My life has been filed with monsters.
Monsters that smack me when no one is looking,
Monsters that come in the form of words,
Even ones that push me onto their bed.
I run and hide inside of my computer,
Drowning in my tears,
Because it burns when I cry.
Looking for comfort and someone,
To just tell me,
I don’t hate you Becca Purkey.
This is just what he simply,
whispers into my ear when the moon is now bright.
He wrote his way, his way into my heart.
Within his sexy letters.
Now, within the whispers he shares only with me.
This he requires more and more of it with each sun rise.
In today’s light I can sit up,
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poem by Mrs. Cynosure
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Mercy Me Mercy You
never mercy me in the moon light
thou I shall mercy you
day or night
you shall be the weaker
one of the two
therefor I am stronger
at my weakest point
I am stronger than you
at your strongest
I have no muscles
therefore I cant
walk
talk
feed myself
control my arms or legs
or my body waste for that matter
I may not have them
in the physical world but
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poem by Mrs. Cynosure
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