When I was nothing more than just a child,
The Lemon Tree was happy notes and dance.
I would skip around with the melody in mind,
A song purely delightful, at first glance.
But as I became older and the lyrics became clear,
I realised how tragic they were.
Bitterness and tears, caught in song,
And I don’t know which version I prefer.
But then again, sad as it is,
Perhaps it’s part of growing up.
When The Lemon Tree stops being sounds,
And becomes a story of two lovers’ break-up.
When you realise it’s Friday,
And you have nothing to post.
So you compose a silly poem,
To quickly upload.
He’s at home in his bed,
His wife at his side.
But he finds himself in battle,
As he opens his eyes.
The enemy is upon them,
His friends are all dying.
So he fights with all he has,
While his insides are crying.
There! Don’t you see?!
An enemy to his side!
So he raises his gun,
And he shoots the damn guy!
A scream pulls him back,
And he sees what he’s done.
He’s back in his kitchen,
Where he just shot his own son.
A/N: If interested then the following link is to a website where you can make a donation to help soldiers dealing with PTSD:
Isn’t it funny;
How you are both my biggest pride,
And my darkest secret?
A/N: Tried my hands at micro poetry (inspired by Sarah Doughty) and it turned out about twice as long as planned. Oh, well 🙂 Let me know what you think
With a desire
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A/N: Another Sarah Doughty poem – do you guys agree with it or not? 🙂
If you dare
© Sarah Doughty
A/N: Wednesday poem by Sarah Doughty. In my mind, it’s the story of a tough break-up. What do you guys think? 🙂
I was born in limbo,
a purgatory of
but over time,
it into paradise.
© Sarah Doughty
A/N: Another beautiful micro-poem by Sarah Doughty
Today is not
to give up.
(Things I tell
A/N: A poem consisting of an eight-year-old boy’s letter to Santa.
Dear Santa, I’ve been real good this year, so please send me what I wish for as a gift,
Please dear Santa, don’t send me coal, for I’m not on the Naughty List!
I’ve been brushing my teeth twice a day, and eaten no stolen sweets.
And I’ve been a brave boy, Santa, for it is only twice that I this year have wetted my sheets.
I asked mom to turn the night lamp off, and so I lie there alone in the dark.
But I’m a brave boy now, so worry not, last week I even stood up for Mark!
He’s been teased, and he’s been pushed, and this time I said no more!
And Mark and I are best friends now, of this we together swore.
Continue reading Dear Santa…