I’ve noticed it’s the quiet that hits the hardest
The vacancy of your notifications on a busy day
The little interruptions I became quite accustomed to
And I miss those ever-loving interludes with you
The way you’d plead and beg for more time
I never quite understood how little time we had left
If only I’d known, I would’ve never said goodbye
© 2026 Michelle Cook
Danny 💔 – November 20th, 1969 – May 11th, 2026. Neither Brian nor I will ever forget you… xoxo
Tears were her last resort
As every cloud was fresh out of rain
So she summoned all of her sadness
Releasing it in pitter patters of pain
The teacup could only smile
As the droplets fell one by one
Now holding the valuable elixir
He beamed for what he had done
© 2025 Michelle Cook
Sometimes we just need to pour out our pain and it’s nice when someone invites us to do that. Thank you to those who have. 😉 ~M xoxo
*For those of you who are curious about the title, I’ve decided to write a series of poems from the perspective of objects, exploring how they might help us if we listen to their unspoken wisdom. I hope these little poems will help you think about ways you can help yourself in a world where each of us may often feel alone.
Photo generated with AI
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
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
There are days
when everything is right,
days when all the fields
shine so bright.
But today is not
one of those days,
instead, it’s just proof
of how nobody prays.
Today the sun
has lost her glow,
and the rain sent instead
has been all just for show.
Fattened gray clouds
still gush in sheets,
flooding sunken corners
on empty streets.
Sorry puddles
reflect sullen skies,
waters blurry black
like mascara eyes.
Echos of harsh words
woven in the winds,
a mournful reminder
of how the story always ends.
© 2025 Michelle Cook
Photo generated with AI
Her Writing Haven 