"What you make it."

[YellowRubberDuckie]

Some days she cries
And she doesn’t know why.
The pain haunts her through the walls
Some days her head is so full, sleep is a dream.

She has love in her life, but it is not her family
“Family is what you make it,” she says,
But she still longs for the love of a sister she lost long ago.
She holds on the memories of the love of a father
Lost one winter day,
Sad she doesn’t have him to hold onto in the rain.

But there is a boy that is the sun
He loves her no matter what she has done
The days she can’t hold him are gray
The days she can are summer days with too much heat.

“Life is what you make it,” she says as she puts on her shades,
She starts her car, loaded down with hope,
Leaving the home that was always just house since one winter day,
Smiling she leaves and has thoughts of never returning.
She feels free
Because tomorrow is bright, the pain of yesterday a dream
“Love is what you make it,” she says and she smiles
She lays down to dream, her head full of sleep.



This is the first attempt at poetry in probably 8 years. I hope it's not too horrible.
Duckie

[Heidi]

1. Nice, Duckie.

Thanks for sharing that poem. Why'd you stop writing poetry for eight years?

(Blow a kiss to my home state for me, would ya? :hi:)

[YellowRubberDuckie]

2. I have no idea why I stopped.

I was trying too hard I think, being constrained by rules and thoughts of making it rhyme or something. I can be anal like that. hehe. Thanks.
Duckie

[In_The_Wind]

3. Keep on writing Duckie !

I'll read your words, your thoughts.

Thank you

:hi::hug:

[YellowRubberDuckie]

4. Thanks...

[Wapsie B]

5. Very nice!