Lost under the bluest of skies

sky-2969489_1280

I remain lost
Under the bluest of skies
Nobody, not one
Sees the hurt in my eyes

I am not free
To be who I choose
No matter what I do
I always seem to lose

I once thought
That love was real
But the longer I live
The less that I feel

And the truth is
I’ve never belonged
This is how It’s been
My whole life long

© 2019 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/sky-cloud-plant-dandelion-blue-2969489/

 

When I think of you…

walking-in-the-rain-1695803_1280

When I think of you
I think of dances in the rain
Midnight walks and talks
Never a refrain

When I think of you
I think of autumn showers
Sitting at a little café
Talking for hours

When I think of you
I think of smiles under an umbrella
Holding your hand tight
So much I wanna tell ya

And when I think of you
I feel happier when it rains
The tie that binds us
Just cannot be explained

© 2019 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/illustrations/walking-in-the-rain-landscape-beauty-1695803/

 

Words

write-2930025_1280

Words
I wrestle with them.
Some are just worth fighting for.

And even one good word can make life worth living — bringing hope to a day, which might otherwise be dark and dismal.

But a bad word can be so disheartening — often reminds me of a rosebud that wilts before it ever has the chance to bloom.

If only our words could always be like rainbows,
we’d never have to feel so gray.

© 2019 Michelle Cook

I guess it all depends…

suspended-leaf-3166771_1280

We often experience
A multitude of seasons
And nobody really knows
All of those reasons

But we carry on
Like we always do
Even when the answers
Are nearly none to few

And we never stop to question
What those seasons mean
Yet there must be hidden answers
In everything we’ve seen

Scattered between the pages
Of our monotonous lives
There have got to be reasons
For why we’ve somehow survived

And even if those answers
Are never actually found
We should all be happy
We’ve been allowed to stick around

So many people in this world
Never have that gifted chance
I guess it all depends
On our individual circumstance

© 2019 Michelle Cook


For a month of writing prompts, click here; Along the weathered, winding trail

 

Perfect stranger

hand-3672958_1280

I watched each step
As she crossed that road
After leaving the safe shelter
Of her humble abode

Her clothes looked comfortable
With billowy cotton sleeves
And I suspected her socks
Were likely pulled up to her knees

Her hat was placed neatly
Atop a bed of pearly white hair
And as she slowly strode along
I couldn’t help but stop and stare

Her strides were shortened
By hips that dared not move
And her uniquely designed cane
Didn’t do much to improve

She seemed determined
Yet unhurried in decisive fashion
To get to wherever it was
Which was driving her inner passion

I sensed freedom in her jaunt
Though not of the physical kind
And I believe our brief encounter
Was solely meant to remind

For she made me think of the worries
The ones I cling to every day
And yet she so unintentionally
Seemed to leave hers miles away

I knew she’d discovered the secret
Found only in aging years
The one we all hope to find
To help lessen our irrational fears

And so she taught me a lesson that day
About my own life and who I am
And how I shouldn’t worry about the things
That I will never fully understand

I just wish I could thank her
For the encouragement she provided
It’s hard to find that these days
In a world so terribly divided

© 2019 Michelle Cook

Faith 

tunnel-899053_1280

Plainly put
She needs more
Not the pot of gold
At the end of the rainbow
But instead, that bit of light
The one beckoning her
From the end of the tunnel
She walks cautiously
Uncertain of where to step
For the ground is uneven
And the rocks are jagged
Does she dare continue?
That tiny bit of light
Seems awfully far away
She sighs…
It’s likely just a mirage

 

© 2019 Michelle Cook

Gravity

woman-918981_1280

It’s one of those days…
The kind that makes you wonder
About all the things you shouldn’t
And then leaves you feeling weary

I feel bored and uninspired
And the monotonous drivel
Flooding my emotionless mind
Is only making matters worse

The familiar clicking of the clock
Is fueling my hypnotic state
And I think I may just collapse
Under the weight of my excitement

© 2019 Michelle Cook