OUR ORIGINAL POETRY: Share It Here

Come back. Come back please.

You left too soon.

You left too young.

We only bury people

who experienced a long-term peak

in their lives.

Return in 70 years or so…

Please?

Sorry, sunflower.

This one’s already gone

I just wanted to add the name of a wonderful writer I just learned about if you don't already now her. A.R. Asher. Very beautiful poetry, look her up if you haven't already!

My name is Merthe and I wrote a poem that's kind of like a fairytale. It's a cute little love story about a little ghost and a scarecrow. It's also quite long, but I was proud of it and wanted to share with you guys...

The ghost and the scarecrow

A little ghost lived in the attic of the old house on the farm.

He liked to simply stay up there and not cause any harm.

It was a nice and cozy place, and although he was alone,

He told himself that he preferred to always stay at home.

Every day he’d read a book with tales from times before.

He knew the stories all by heart, but still read them once more.

Every day and night he’d read, and when he reached the end,

He’d flip all of the pages back and read it all again.

His favourite story was by far the Princess and the Knight.

The story of their endless love would make him feel alright.

For years the ghost had dreamed to find a princess of his own,

To live happily ever after, and no longer be alone.

But how to find a princess if you always stay inside?

That’s why the ghost decided to leave the attic for a night.

Through the window, slightly scared, in the night of Halloween,

He left his home to take a look at the world he’d never seen.

He looked around in wonder, things looked different from up close;

The trees, the grass, the pumpkin patch, and on his way he froze.

‘Cause there, across the pumpkin patch somebody caught his gaze:

A handsome looking scarecrow with a handsome pumpkin face.

If our little ghost had had a heart, it would have skipped a beat.

When the scarecrow turned around and smiled, then waved at him to greet.

The ghost felt his cheeks glow red and flashed an awkward smile.

Both didn’t have too much to say, so they stood there for a while.

Come on now, little ghost, go tell him something nice!

Tell him anything at all, just go and break the ice!

What did the knight say to the princess, while standing in the yard?

You’ve read that tale a thousand times, now why is it so hard?

The ghost tried to remember the book he always read.

But couldn’t find a useful line in what the knight had said.

Then it occurred to him that maybe he was wrong.

Perhaps his role had been the princess all along.

“I’ve been hiding in my tower for as long as I have known.

Thinking of another life in which I’m no longer alone.

But as I’m here with you this moment things start to feel alright.

If I can be the princess, will you be my knight?”

It took the ghost all of his courage to say these words aloud.

And he regretted it the instance they had come out of his mouth.

This nerve wrecking moment left him feeling like a fool,

Totally embarrassed, still he tried to play it cool.

He looked up at the scarecrow’s face, after all of this was said.

Whose normally orange pumpkin cheeks were now glowing with red.

The scarecrow took him by the hand with his glove filled up with straw.

The ghost felt tingling when they touched and looked at him in awe.

The scarecrow said: “I feel the same, I’m glad you told me this.

For I was too scared to tell you, too afraid to take that risk.

Of course I want to be your knight, I’d love that very much.

Because I have this tingly feeling every time we almost touch.”

So they held each other tight and through the night kept holding hands.

The ghost told all his stories and the scarecrow taught him how to dance.

They talked for hours without an end, and filled the night with laughter.

Because both of them had finally found their Happy Ever After.

By Merthe :)

In a black robe covering all cruelity inside, Carrying long blood bathe blade on his side, Riding the horse of darkness, eyes full of conceit Gazing from above, the WORLD bows at his feet A sight of him infuriates, stops your breath Vicious, Deceitful, the metaphor of death Killing his time, singing the rune Life is the instrument, death is his tune

JOURNEY TO MAGIC

O Fear, the tumultuous monster beneath my bed,

The tumultuous blister bleeding in my head,

Why have you come to torture me today,

Why have you come to send me on my way,

On my way to sadness or anger or worse

On my way to the everlasting curse

On the way to the brink of my own sanity

On the way to the final slice of my humanity

You take the light and replace it with hysteria

You show me true misery and all of it’s area

You make me think I’m staring death straight in the face

A fate worse than death is to be caught in it’s gaze

My focus is withered, faulty, and obtuse

My focus is distorted, I’ll never be loose

Loose from the torture of watching myself die

Loose from the terror of your most wretched of lies

What is reality and what am I to do?

What have you done to me and who are you?

Are you an enemy or are you just me?

Is there a difference? My reflection! I see..

Fear is my own monster and it’s mine to use

Fear has a mission and it isn’t to lose

There’s a picture fear sees and I am blind to it

Fear wants me to see too, so I must go through it

Through the nights of hearts pounding in bed

Through the thoughts bleeding from my head

Through the days of dizzy spells and bloodshot eyes

Through the months of endless beggings and endless cries

Til a moment finally arrives…

Not the moment, just one, just for this brief period

I see something more, something more than fear I did

I can see magic streaming through the trees

I didn’t know it was there even if I was pleased

Magic in the faces of the people passing by

Magic in the water’s reflection of the sky

Magic in my soul breathing a sigh of relief

Magic in my tears despite my heavy grief

Fear and Magic, an odd pairing of fate

Two sides of my soul desperate to mate

Two words free of description or defining

Two descriptions of life that are well worth finding

I will fear again and fall off the path

But I need only remember that in all that wrath,

And terror and pain and rivers of tears

Is the journey to magic hidden in my fears

Mirror’s Mirage Wrote our script , in a hazy dream Before you were you & I was me. Ran away to find our own, Connected by thrones of truths half told. In our stillness, spark a flame, Burn them off, and start again. Do you see me ? For what I hold? Will you recognize the sound of my soul? Because when I wake there’s only fog. Feel stuck in an endless mirage. So hard to tell what’s real or fake. Is it neither? Is it fate? Oh how I hope to god it is fate. So we can lay to rest the shadows that we made.

I was engaged in the mock
I got hit by the rock
it was a bit of a shock
I understand what's the stock
This has helped me open the lock
All I have to do is knock

I give thanks
To my broader vision

That I can see bigger
And more clearly

Life can be very confusing
At times

It can be confusing
As to what

Is or isn't good for us

As we walk through
Our paths

With awakened minds

This all becomes more clear

I was paging
Through the
Farmer's Almanac

And
I found a deck
Of cards