Wayward

When I wrote this poem I thought of a young lady in her teenage years learning what love is like for the first time with another boy around her age.  Often times teenagers are faced with the challenges of self-identity, first love and first heartbreaks, and academic pressure, which can spiral into what is known as “drama”.  So, I hope you enjoy the dramatic effect of this love-hate teenage angst poem. And of course, I draw a few of these lines from my own experiences, ha ha! 

 

Wayward

 

I can’t approach his wayward hand

To him I’m barely a whisper.

My light is fading in the dark

Each time I watch him kiss her.

 

Autumn leaves make memories,

And sunny days feel endless.

They keep the warmth inside my soul

When I am sickened with forgiveness.

 

The rose with poignant thorns cut through

The heart of a lover scorned.

Each time a prick is felt again

The womb of hatred is born.

 

Can love and hate go together

And live peacefully as one?

His charming eyes grab attention

But his attitude gets none.

 

My withered palms and lily gaze

Are reminded everyday

Of the kisses that were never mine

But a dream I dream always.

 

Copyright 2013 Angela J Thomas

10/04/2013