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Old AgeLike a slowly floating blanket it captured me, Wrinkles and aching bones slowly forming. Bouncing and giggling my grandchildren play Telling of things I didn't want to say. "Grandma, you're always tired, and why don't you dance?" "Grandma, your hands and shaking and your eyes have bags!" What they don't know is that deep inside Hiding behind my old, wrinkly eyes There dwells one of them, a young pig-tailed girl, Who longs to come show them I can be fun too! Old Age has taken over me, and soon I'll be gone, Leaving an old, ugly body to mourn. And flowting with stars, kissiOld Age
by ~simple-serendipity
These Maternal TearsRain approaches wistfully. It tiptoes forward like a small child Pattering through a dark house To her mother's side after a nightmare. The fat, juicy drops glide gracefully Through the billowy gray clouds, Then splatter violently upon the ground. In our minds, clouding our emotion, Rain will be found. With a small wave and shower of tears, It evanesces from our sight-- A sorrowful mother Sadly forced to flee from her children.These Maternal Tears
by ~simple-serendipity
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Beauty.deviantID
Devious Info
- Current Residence: Venice, Italy (I wish!!)
- Interests: fine arts stuff I guess
- Favourite genre of music: all but hip-hop (unless I'm dancing to it)
- Favourite poet or writer: Edgar Allen Poe
- Shell of choice: sand dollar hahaha
- Wallpaper of choice: yellow :D
- Favourite cartoon character: Goofy
- Personal Quote: Some think I'm insane for dancing all the time...pity they can't hear the music. ~zh
- Tools of the Trade: emotion and my pen
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"When one door of happiness closes, another opens; but often we look so long at the closed door that we do not see the one which has opened for us."
-Helen Keller
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"When one door of happiness closes, another opens; but often we look so long at the closed door that we do not see the one which has opened for us."
-Helen Keller
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"I sit and watch the rain, and see my tears run down the window pane." from Jekyll & Hyde
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"When one door of happiness closes, another opens; but often we look so long at the closed door that we do not see the one which has opened for us."
-Helen Keller
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Everybody whispers where birds fall dead
I smell the yellow sickness churning inside your head
Wiping flecks of foam, twisting with rabies
Bloody, we run through these fields of dead daisies
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