What does it mean? One ponders, one wonders At the complexities Of what life delivers The thought, The wistfulness state of a perfect life can it exist? Yes indeed! It starts From deep within Self-love blossoming Is the birth place Of your inner…
Category: Half Marathon Poem
I am Rebel
Dancing to the music When the music hits you You feel no pain I am a Rebel Waiting to hear the sounds Thunder through the clouds Music gives rhythm to my Swag Keeping those feet moving All over the moon lit shores Music is the…
5 pm Poem
How can time move so fast It’s five past six Six past six Seven past six No Now it’s two a.m. And I’m still not letting go of it
The Cupboard
You locked me in that cupboard, with barely room to move, a tiny little dark space, too small to be of any use, except you found a perfect answer, for what to do when you went out, lock me in that cupboard, you could leave…
Welcome Home- Poem #10- Half Marathon by Ingrid
Welcome Home by Ingrid Exner- Poem #10 It is YOU and YOU alone YOU should call HOME. Not Four walls, four cities, four countries Nor continents define, What you inhabit. YOU are HOME. Be careful of the thoughts and cares That…
Tenth Post: In The Black
In The Black In the Black, they say, men can go mad, And reavers find their meals. But they can’t stop the signal However hard they try. He took them out there, To the furthest rim, And there made a home On the good ship…
True Advice
Give a reason, Regardless of season. Give a quote, Not something rote. Tell it true, What one should do. Keep it real, Just how you feel. A friend in need, Will thank you, Indeed!
Haiku #10
I go out to see Something that repulses me: An ocean of lies.
Poem Ten
I set the flowers on the ground I sit down by the flowers I gently touch the stone I’m afraid it will crumble Your new resting place Your new bed Your life with me is gone You are gone Our house is not the same…
Freedom
There’s a valley called Freedom, far away Hardly loyal to the name, to this day From the glorious peaks of the mountains And the bubbling music of the fountains Its people were slave to freedom And engulfed in slavery’s boredom The river, always so revolting…