Tale of Two Lives

it was the best of times, it was the worst of times
or was that in a book, no its my life take a look
tell me how to deal, with the pain you make me feel
help me believe in you, show me my lies are true
i have no love to show, first you have to let go
pull your hands apart, and let go of my heart
how can i have pride, you pushed me to the side
the days are now good, i even feel that i should
thank you for the time, your eyes don't meet mine
i indulge myself again, in a life seeming pretend
far from a solid peace, often good times cease
i have nothing to give, music is all i have to live
where has my joy gone, where did i go wrong

Two-Faced

this is just for you
to give you a clue
of why i'll waste my time
and write this rhyme
why'd you throw away
some months and a day
you promised its ok
didn't you even say
that your love is true
now its i don't want you
your nothing but a lie
why'd you even try
to play me a fool
hope you feel cool
i'm sorry i lowered myself
to the bottom shelf
picking you a big mistake
my feelings were fake
sorry your so dumb
you'll just marry a bum
but i hope you have fun
don't get caught in the sun
people might see your face
the lies and your disgrace

Hung Out to Dry

I hate social life
it only brings strife
people so immature
judgemental by nature
only intent to hurt
blood-stained, torn shirt
being a boyfriend does suck
give up, don't give a fuck
she doesn't like me anyway
doesn't talk to me all day
tired of making the effort
when she doesn't care
why do I waste my time
happiness I'll never find
I should take my life
throw it away tonight
can't wait to leave
cut off the sleave
that holds me down
everlasting faceless frown
to death I'm bound
by slowly being drown

Dearly Beloved

my pride i will claim
in seeing your pain
defy me you will
with words to kill
your nothing at all
to me you will fall
i wasn't a good choice
for you to voice
your actions of hurt
and treated like dirt
now your at war
with peace no more
you started a plot
you can finish not
avoid me at all cost
for you will be lost
when you go head on
with someone so strong
if i catch your eye
and you attempt or try
to heed a word
you can be assured
i'll shut you down
you ignorant clown

Social Killing Grounds

forget my name
remember me not
to everyone I will die
not that you care
a cold white face
no expression of life
blind hate bleeding
internal in my heart
soon to be worlds apart
don't worry, no care
there will be no dispair
if there is care now, to late
you never appreciated me
didn't show anything at all
suffocated in a narrow hall
people are full of shit
grow up get over it
go to hell and
I'll see you there
you can look into my
cold, dead, blank stare

Poetry of Sarah Grace Wood

JOEL

He spins the world
With tiny fingers
(Stronger than all of ours)
Then lies palms-down
On the hard wood floor,
To watch the floating top
Kaleidoscoping color,
His thoughts tangled
In his tiny, dizzy universe.

They ask for words and names of things
Joel, tell us what you see.
In the shadowing silence of their questions,
Frustration deepens...

I watch his watching
My gaze is caught and drawn, like thread
Towards the colored spindle.
And I see his eyes, like twin suns,
Shine with laughter.

His spins the top again:

And now he looks at me
As, once again,
He finger-paints his words,
Answering every question
With the swift, strong fluttering
Of his articulate hands.

A Bedtime Story

Two nodding heads:
One blonde, one brown
Tip back with sleep
Upon the creamy satin couch
Where the fading evening light
Spills the color of Georgia peaches.
Their grandmother reads to them
With an unsteady voice.

She will leave them slowly.
Sinew dissolving,
Memories tumbling backwards.
Soon she will see a double world
Mixed of memory and reality.

But now she turns the pages
Of the love-worn book
With parchment-thin hands,
Creased and worn with time.

Oh quickly, turn the page!
Hold us close and read to us your story...
For the sun sinks slowly in the west;
It grows too dark to read much longer.

I Will Think of You...

I will think of you when you are dead,
A strange expression of love
From a four-year-old who should still believe in immortality.
Her mother kisses her brown curls
As the precocious child tumbles into bed
With sleep-shiny eyes.

~~~~~ ~~~~~

Two sisters struggle with death
In the tiny clean whiteness of a hospital room;
Their mother is dying.
They talk in low voices,
Weary hearts sharing each pulse.
They knew that death would come,
But love clings to the false hope
Of the immortality of those held dear.

In the silence of their abandoned conversation,
One sister thinks of her daughter's shiny eyes and brown curls,
And begins to understand
The child's wisdom whispered all those years ago
I will think of you when you are dead.

~~~~~ ~~~~~

The fragile sisters tumble into bed,
Cradling their fetal mother:
Three gray women shuddering in the tiny clean whiteness.
Their pulses beat in triple rhythm, slowing.
They kiss their mother's white curls
As her precious life tumbles into darkness,
And the one enlightened by her daughter's words
Now knows the meaning of each loving kiss:
We will think of you when you are dead.

Butterfly

A girl cocoons, wrapped in a white-dressed bed
Where rosy-fingered dawn begins to spread
And shadows flee before the morning light,
Dying echoes of the blind desires of night.
Within her chrysalis of knowledge won
As Hopper painted her in Morning Sun,
A woman stretches - newborn in the dawn,
While cleansing, sparkling paths her tears have drawn:
Dripping rev'rent kisses down her cheek,
To soothe the pain of wisdom bittersweet.
She meditates in whiteness flecked with blood
Upon desire's price. Yet generous love
Unfolds its wings within her fragile breast
And flutters where her lover's parting kiss was pressed.