Writing for fun and as an escape from the everyday. After all, what is life for if not to create?
Alone, we are not. The stories aired, somehow true. None pay any mind.
By Merrie Sandersabout a year ago in Poets
Said 1 to 2, "Do you think we'll ever get out of here?" "That I die in this cage is my greatest fear." “Yes, to that, my friend, I surely relate.
By Merrie Sanders2 years ago in Poets
Endangered--not forgotten. Cautioned but not heeded. Listless in care. Indigent of heart. Person: unknown. Unwanted. Suckling at the abandoned.
I've sought approval that I've never found. Wasted so much time, digging my heels in the ground. Sure that if only I had validation,
A note to my sweetheart, My love and best friend, My home and my haven from now ‘til the end, I wanted to take this moment to say,
Forgettable and regrettable; those feelings untenable. To be the former or latter-- such a punch to the gut. To be lost in the crowd;
Too many thoughts clouding my mind. Unending chatter, unbearable clatter-- a cacophony of chaos, and you ask what's the matter.
lost my faith and only ever found two sides of a coin not to settle for anything but the best I deserve nothing
Can we not? Just for tonight, put downs our swords and give up the fight? Stubborn is fine, part of who we are, but it's been
To all my words living in volumes redacted, relics of moments and feelings transacted, preserved in pages not to be opened,
For comforts of ease, I will not go quietly. Ambitions like Zeus, beyond big and mighty. With plenty of passion and surprise left in me,
I sure wish you’d come looking for me crawling through a hangover of bleak misanthropy alone in my thoughts there with no relief
