Moving on My Friend

A glance then a look.
It soon turns into a smile.
Hiding behind pretenses.
Too shy to take the first step.

Unexpected circumstances trip us.
Colliding in all embarrassment.
A soft spoken murmur is caught.
Caught on straining ears.

Seemingly perfect from the start.
Everything clicked together.
Happily in our own world.
A friendship was formed.

Now forgotten of previous embarrassments.
Conversations seemingly endless.
Nothing could part.
So I thought.

Little by little I realized.
Thoughts slowly forming inside.
Doubt quickly flooding in.
You were my friend.

I was happy.
I was free to be me.
I loved you for who you were.
I couldn’t believe.

It was true I came to find.
I was no more then a tool.
An object to be used.
To further gain your aspirations.

Tears streaming down my face.
I struggled with hurt.
Disbelief over such cruelty.
How could I be used?

Broken from within me.
Breaking me of my trust.
How was I ever to trust another?
After being used as such.

I am worn.
I am weary.
I will be strong.
I will move on.

Though times moves on.
I found my despair seep away.
Light found its way back in.
Along with a true friend.

I have found trust is not so hard.
Finding laughter so much easier.
I have found joy once more.
With it came love.


Copyright 2010 Lauren Hall ©

Nay Mair

Piercing sounds reflect poorly.
Radiating the now lost souls.
Hear the howling night folk.
They cry for what they do not know.

Recompense for past dues.
Signature of the forgotten.
Line upon lines hidden.
Too far in the distant past.

Taking back what is not theirs.
Only loveliness is left untouched.
Left for others to admire.
Strength beyond words unspoken.

Hear now the night fowl whisper.
Unwanted personages crawl in dark.
Their ward tossed to the wolves.
Scavenging for new livelihoods.

Hear, hear you begotten ones.
Told in the distant present.
We will shine upon the wicked.
Naught shall change our course.

Singings sung in lies.
Woven is their tempests snare.
Heeding what is unspoken.
Unlikely to break the spell.

Truth being our only ally.
We wait for this freedom yet.
Covered in unholy mire.
Waiting to be cleaned once mair.

Treading on weakened ground.
Unsteady our heads become.
Lightened this way soon will be.
When he takes back his rightful ward.

In silence we now wait.
The harshness of bitter words brittle.
Beating our ever beaten backs.
They will strike us nay mair.




Copyright 2010 Lauren Hall ©