Poetry

Observer

Talking, chatter all around me.

I sit silently, an observer.

I wonder what they’re talking about.

What are they saying?

Why are they laughing,

hysterically,

not a care in the world?

They don’t know me.

I don’t know them.

We mean nothing to each other.

So why do I care?

I am only an observer.

~Carissa~


Species of a Human

Moving as a heard

they critique.
Talking in whispers —

gossip.

 

Pointing fingers

subtle turn of heads.

 

They stalk their prey

Watching, waiting.

Ready to pounce.

 

This is mostly the female species

the males couldn’t be bothered

 

And then we have the rare species

the kind, gentle, loving.

 

Loving eyes

kind words.

 

The only whispers are made

to encourage.

 

Pointing to point out

all of the good, the love.

 

Its the rare species that make

the world right.

That make the world livable.

~Carissa~


LUCID

Awake or dreaming?

He says to himself

as he walks down to his room.

 

He lays down on his bed

drifting off.

Slowly, sleepily, into dream land.

 

Then jerking awake he realizes

that wasn’t his room,

this is his room.

 

He’s in a lucid state

A place where he is in control

His own world

 

Leaving it would be so hard

“I’ll just stay here”

he thinks.

 

“So long as I never sleep again,

I can never wake up

I can never leave.

 

I’ll Stay.”

~Carissa~