love poems
Love poems for hopeless romantics; I'm the poet and you're my muse.
The Life List
The life list No video recording No job I'm given and fired from No letter No life list I wrote at 13 No help to let me see the beauty in life Just the series of memories leading to the end Cleaning, yoga, projects, carving pumpkins, performances, museums Too out of order Crying on the couch, you saying the cancer is back The angel you gave me to watch over us, my tree topper every Christmas The smile after you saw a play Dinners, how you love dessert No sensical order The hospital room, where you are asking if it's okay if you do nothing more You are going to die I can't say it I answer, I'm selfish, I will always want more time Telling me not to hate life, not to give up when you are gone, you know me Sitting in bed laughing, until you couldn't because the morphine got your tongue A piece of coal unfairly given Love still in your eyes Always Why this order The pain So much pain, a room full of everyone's pain while we watched shows for the last time The girl loses twice in the movie, but finds herself I lose twice, the second myself, and lose my heart and soul Then the last breath A dagger as a present Now I'm a time traveler with no control where I end up Sometimes it's silly dacing to a record at Christmas Im five saying "I'm telling", when 'I saw mommy kissing Santa Claus' comes on Or middle school watching you sew, waiting to see the costume But then there is death in the path If hate could build mountains We'd all already be to heaven I hate the slow death the unfair order If a Christmas Carol could change me Maybe I could stay here Sent via the Samsung Galaxy S24, an AT&T 5G smartphone
By simplicityabout a year ago in Poets
When Time Turns Silver
In a house with creaky wooden floors, And curtains kissed by the breeze, Lived a girl no more than seven, With a heart full of gentle pleas. Her world was shaped by lullabies, Braided hair and nighttime prayers, And arms that held her through the dark, With unconditional care. Her mother’s hands were soft and worn, Her father’s smile, a steady beam, And every night they said, “We love you,” Before she slipped into a dream. But one day, brushing Mama’s hair, She found a single strand of gray, And something deep inside her stirred— A fear that wouldn't go away. “Why’s your hair turning silver, Mama?” She asked with eyes so wide. Her mother smiled but paused a beat, Then gently knelt beside. “It’s what happens when we’re growing wise, Like trees that stand so tall. It’s nothing bad, my little one, It happens to us all.” But the girl felt something tremble, A shiver down her spine. As if a clock she’d never seen Had started keeping time. --- Each birthday brought her closer, To dreams beyond the nest. But with each candle on her cake, The fear grew in her chest. At school they talked of science, Of life, and then of death. She came home quiet that day, With panic in her breath. “Will you and Papa die someday?” She asked with trembling tone. “I don’t want to be here, Mama, I don’t want to be alone.” Her father took her tiny hand, And held it firm, yet kind. “Oh sweet one, none of us know when, But life is not unkind. We’re here right now, and that is real, This moment—warm and true. So let’s not lose today to fear, For there’s still much to do.” --- Still, late at night beneath her quilt, She’d stare up at the sky. And wonder if the stars were souls, Or just the angels’ eyes. She feared the day she'd find the bed Too empty and too wide, The morning sun not strong enough To melt the chill inside. She feared the quiet hallway, The silence after shoes, No more the scent of Papa’s coat, Or Mama’s garden hues. She feared forgetting voices, The rhythm of their laughs, The way they called her "pumpkin pie," Or kissed her in the bath. --- Time, the silent artist, Painted lines upon their skin. The girl grew tall, but still she clung To all that lived within. She watched her parents slower now, Their walks a little weak. Her mother sometimes paused mid-thought, Her father’s knees would creak. And though she brought them tea and books, And wrapped them warm at night, The fear she'd felt since seven years Still gripped her heart so tight. She never said it loudly, But whispered in her prayer, “Please God, let them stay with me. It isn’t close to fair.” --- Then one dusk, the house grew dim, With shadows long and still. Her father, sitting by the fire, Said, “Come here, if you will.” She sat beside his wrinkled hands, He said, “You’ve grown so bright. But daughter, let me speak a truth Before I leave this light. Love is not a body, Nor breath we hold inside. Love is the echo in the walls, Long after we have died. It’s in the songs we sang to you, The garden Mama grew. It’s in the way you hum at dawn— Yes, that's our love in you. Don’t fear the day we fly away, The day we leave the shore. We’re just going where the sun sets first— But love stays evermore.” --- She cried into his sweater, Like she did at seven years, And whispered, “I’m still scared, Papa.” He kissed away her tears. “I know,” he said. “So was I too, When my own father passed. But hearts don’t break—they stretch and grow. And they are built to last.” --- Years would pass, as years will do, And time, like tide, would go. She'd walk the garden Mama loved, And smile in the glow. Her daughter asked her one gray day, “Why’s your hair like snow?” She paused, then said, “It’s wisdom, love. It means I’ve come to know.” The child stared with a worried brow, Like she'd seen fear appear. And just like that, she saw herself— A mirror held so clear. She pulled the child in gently close, And whispered soft and low: “My darling, love outlives us all— And that is all you need to know.”
By Hasbanullahabout a year ago in Poets
