poem

Disappointments

~ ~M ~ 6 Comments

We never expect that dreams will fade
but somehow, they always do.
And the only way to fix those dreams
is to eventually dream anew.

Disappointments are never fun
life is much more than just a game.
Yet sometimes hearts and minds disconnect
and things just aren’t the same.

We can feel empty, defeated, deflated
as time begins to wear us thin.
And as much as we don’t want the changes
we’re often forced to begin again.

We can’t always see all the positives
even though they’re not that far.
In the meantime, we might just have to sit alone
and be happy with who we are.

© 2025 Michelle Cook

Photo generated with AI

Mondayish

~ ~M ~ 11 Comments

Oh, Monday what can I say?
Your clouds aren’t very picturesque today.

Your vibe is off, your face isn’t sunny,
at least my eggs are still soft and runny.

Why are you always such a pill,
while all the other days give me such a thrill.

You make me feel down and somewhat dreary,
and even when you’re shinning I still get leery.

So now I’ve got this Mondayish vibe,
and thanks to you I might not survive.

Could you please be better when you come next,
so I don’t have to feel like I’ve been hexed.

© 2025 Michelle Cook

Photo generated with AI

You just be you

~ ~M ~ 13 Comments

You just be you,
who cares what others do.

At the end of the day,
they’ll be gone anyway.

Then you’ll be left alone,
another day unknown.

Because none can ever tell
where you inwardly dwell.

That’s the fun of being you,
even if your secrets are few.

Just be happy you exist,
and go on and be remiss.

Your life is yours to live,
you don’t always have to give.

© 2025 Michelle Cook

Photo generated with AI

What is the point of madness…

~ ~M ~ 18 Comments

What is the point of madness
this rat race
this outdoing of ourselves
time and time again,
when does it end,
death?

And who’s counting the days,
you or me?

The completeness of our lives
is it weighed on merit?
Self-accomplishment?
Maybe a little of both?
Maybe neither?

What do we do when our intuition becomes corrupted,
when the things we thought we wanted have blurred lines
and no direction.
Do we keep repeating the same old story?
Take a new path?
Perhaps what justifies our actions could be all that truly matters.

© 2025 Michelle Cook

Photo generated with AI

Rain

~ ~M ~ 29 Comments

During the heart of summer silliness
shimmery beads spill softly
subduing, yet giving rise
to the warm embrace of the day.

A kaleidoscope of kisses
clings to my sun-scorched skin
whispering sweet nothings
in my worn-out, weathered ears.

A single drop sizzles
on the tip of my tongue
pieces of parched earth
come alive in my mouth.

I drink in the days of my youth
the ends of eras, no longer lost
forgotten moments flickering
embers that never quite expired.

A flood of emotions permeates
all the hidden parts of me.
Funny, I could’ve sworn
I’d never see days like this again.

© 2025 Michelle Cook

Photo generated with AI