Mud On My Shoe (A Poem About Regret)
I walk alone.
Sometimes the day is sunny.
Sometimes the day is cloudy.
Rainy.
Thunderstorms loom and threaten.
But, alas, there is no umbrella
to shield me
and to shield
the turbulent storm in my heart.
The dismal weather matches my fluctuating mood
of melancholy and regret.
The puddle looms but I don't see it.
Am I weary rose-colored glasses?
Perhaps.
Sometimes a girl can only see a puddle
when she is already in it.
Such is life. Such is love. Such is heartache.
Mud clings to my shoe.
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poem by Julie A Smith
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Breakaway
Pink,
blue,
and lavender
paint the sky
Gorgeous.
It is agreeable on her.
The color of her adornment.
As the setting sun
shows off
her glory
with brilliant
hues
and bold strokes,
the girl
feels inspired
as she beholds
the sunset's beauty, tranquility,
and breathtaking passion.
Her burdens
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poem by Julie A Smith
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So Not Perfect
Just heard a song on the radio
a girl singing about a boy
who is not less than perfect.
Sweet.
Got me think'n bout
how I am
so not perfect.
Course none of us like
to have that truth pointed out.
Better to be wooed
with romantic gestures
and a sweet and caring smile.
Chocolate is good, too.
Some people are crazy early.
Not me.
Yeah, I know- gotta work on that.
For awhile now
it has been on my heart
to always take the time
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poem by Julie A Smith
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Hope: The Beautiful Promise Of Tomorrow
The little old man
with a crooked back
and a kind yet wistful smile
gazes out at the shimmering ocean
beckoning to him in the distance.
Lost in thought
he ponders
simpler times,
days gone by,
and a girl with a pretty smile.
"Ah, to be young again, "
he thinks to himself.
Youth is wasted on the young,
as the old saying goes.
He has no regrets.
The mistakes he made
taught him well,
but yet
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poem by Julie A Smith
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Feel Like A Fool
Every guy that I have seriously liked
in the last 10 years
is married now.
All except two.
I feel like a fool.
Guy #1
seriously messed with
my heart and mind.
He would never admit it.
It took me almost 5 years
to get over him.
Everyone knew I should move on
but I was the last to know.
I thought he was so amazing.
I saw his passion and his
spiritual gifts
and I tried my best
to turn a blind eye
to his faults.
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poem by Julie A Smith
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