A fool can’t see
all he holds so near,
yet others do;
it’s often crystal clear.
So then that special gift,
or treasure at hand,
finds its wings,
but he can’t understand.
And that’s the way
love eventually escapes;
the heart loses hope,
and then it breaks.
There is a way, though,
to hold on to the prize,
but it only happens
if we realize.
© 2024 Michelle Cook
Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/flower-rose-petals-plant-bud-6646037/
Like a geyser, I gush,
spurting my rage,
but it’s all underneath,
turmoil engaged.
From the top of my head
to the bottom of my feet,
the swells of unrest
continue to heat.
The storm grows stronger,
destruction in its wake.
Still, I try to breathe calmly,
fearing I might break.
And nobody ever knows
the misery I endure;
It’s all just a façade,
a superficial blur.
© 2022 Michelle Cook
Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/grief-woman-cry-destruction-pain-5501796/
There’s a lone tree I see,
reminds me
of what used to be.
I try not to fall under its spell,
as it takes me back to the place
where I once fell.
Looking at it now,
my heart just cries.
Why’d it take me so long
to realize.
Life is good now,
so I turn away,
choosing to leave
all those memories at bay.
© 2022 Michelle Cook
Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/tree-lonely-alone-heaven-stars-4543580/
I keep trying
to forget the past.
To leave all the hurts
buried deep
on that old,
empty road.
The place where
I was deserted,
left choking on remorse.
But everybody
wants answers,
and nobody understands
that I can’t breathe.
And when I’m forced
back on that road,
I can’t heal
or even catch my breath.
The air over there
is stifling.
And so many
broken dreams
are still dangling
in the wind.
I can’t keep
reaching out,
grasping hopelessly
at those lifeless strands.
So please,
I’m begging you,
let’s just leave the past
to live where it died.
Or else this life
won’t be worth living
at all.
© 2020 Michelle Cook
Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/people-woman-walking-hike-trek-2569740/
We never really hit it off ― he and I
but oh how we tried.
And it was lovely at first,
it really was,
until that fateful day.
The spell finally broke,
the magic drifted away,
and I think we both felt the sting.
But we also both craved
something deeper ― meaningful.
And that something
just couldn’t
be found.
© 2019 Michelle Cook
Her Writing Haven 