Some Random Poems and Assorted

[MakuroMythos]

So, these are just some poems and other things that I wrote at some point. Constructive criticism, please? I'd appreciate any feedback! I'm not an English major or anything, though, so I can't promise anything great... (I'll probably add more at some point.)

First one- (This was an English writing prompt from high school.)

When I was young, I knew the dark;
My mother's womb another void
Of night. The moon was dark.
I was young and ignorant of hate,
The hate that moves to shed blood,
The blood which holds power.

When I was grown I knew hate;
The feeling that filled me with power,
Filled the hole inside the void,
That drained me of my blood.
They told me to choose a side;
I chose the dark.

[MakuroMythos]

Second- (I swear these aren't only depressing... I think...)

Grey static buzzes,
Trembles through my blood.
Faint music humming
Around me like a flood.

Footsteps pitter-pat;
My heart begins to race.
Tears flow, like silver,
Steady down my face.

Darkness closes in,
Pressure all around;
Air against my skin,
Feet against the ground.

My breath starts to shake;
My hands tremble, weak.
Memories slip past
Slowly, like a leak.

Mother sings a song,
Then she starts to cry.
I know that tune, I know
That sweet lullaby.

Father pats my head
With hands, warm and soft,
While tears, bittersweet,
Try to stay aloft.

Eyelids start to close;
Shadows creep in past.
I give them all my love
As I breathe my last.

[MakuroMythos]

Third- (haha, I lied.)

Wisdom of Death

I see you, sir, with willowy stance,
Yellow teeth, and dragging hem.
I see your years and days in full,
Though I couldn't comprehend them.

You've seen as much, I'm sure,
As me, and surely more,
For knowing eyes you bear;
Staring bleak and forlorn.

You tell of all you have gathered;
Stories of men, alive and dead.
So tell me a story, if you will,
Of something happy, instead.

I don't care for myths, you see,
Unless they have a happy ending.
And I don't care much for lessons, either,
Long and so unending.

With your stories you tell of ghosts
That haunt you head and heart,
Yet none who hear them come away
Better than they start.

You leave them sad and scared;
You take away their trust
That maybe someday good will come
To those who sow in dust.

Disabuse us of our notions, sure,
We're all worse off for yearning.
As hope recedes nothing is left
But despair that comes with learning.

[MakuroMythos]

Fourth-

We’ve been in this hotel room.
It started so pristine,
But day by day clutter gathered
And now it looks quite a scene;

There’s a pizza box on the counter,
Some sodas in the fridge;
The trash is never empty,
And there’re wrapper piles on the ledge;

The bed is an unholy mess
And the sheets are never made;
The pictures were left in the closet
Just so they wouldn’t fade;

The carpet is littered with crumbs
That stick to your feet when you walk
And the pillows are all on the couch
(From a midnight session of ‘girl-talk’).

It’s a mess, we know- filled with
Memories of where we’ve been-
But it’ll all be gone when the time comes
For the next family to move in.

[MakuroMythos]

Fifth-

My Mother’s Lessons

When I was born, my mother held me
In her arms close to her chest
And told me to open my eyes
And to rest in her embrace.

My mother was a proud woman
And a humble woman.
She told me to stand tall
And to bow to others.

My mother was creative and free
And obedient and structured.
She told me to imagine
And to follow the rules.

My mother was kind and compassionate
And strict and cruel.
She told me to care for others
And not to pity them.

My mother was an insurgent;
She taught me to rebel.
She was independent;
She taught me to walk by myself.

My mother was wise
And weak.
She taught me what I know
And why to live.

[MakuroMythos]

Sixth-

I never liked the dark;
It's never loved me back.
Neither knew the other,
And so both seemed to lack.

I wasted away in the light;
The dark never mourned,
For Light was all and good
And Dark forever scorned.

[MakuroMythos]

Seventh-

Julie is from heav’n;
She has two white wings
And she floats around
All over town
Doing some nice things.

But she’ll never be
And angel so pure,
Though she has the looks;
Her halo’s broken,
Her ceiling’s a floor,
And she never read the holy books.