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~Edamo*s Poems (and other random thoughts)~

This is a poem I wrote on Christmas Eve 2002- my boyfriend Matt and I had broken up and I was basically just depressed and missin him~*

Christmas time is here again,

But this time is different, I*m missing my friend.

He doesn*t know how I wish he would call.

If I could have him, I*d give up it all.

Talks of old memories and bringing up the past,

Why don*t relationships ever seem to last?

He*s all that I want, his love what I need.

Why do I feel this way? Are these feelings of greed?

Am I holding too tightly? Should i let go?

I wish I could tell him, I want him to know.

He means more to me than anyone else.

If I could just have him, I*d give up all my self.

Maybe I*m crazy, and maybe I*m wrong,

But his love for me made me feel strong.

Now that is missing, I*m not sure what to do.

We*ll never utter the words, "I love you."

I*m supposed to be happy during this time of glad,

But try as I might, deep down I*m sad.

It doesn*t seem fair, it doesn*t seem right.

For me at one point he was willing to fight.

Have feelings now changed? Am I not good enough?

Why is this happening? Boy, this is rough!

The way that he touched me, the way that he cared,

Was something that isn*t so often shared.

Bad boy and macho, he wanted his rep

But look in his eyes, that*s the first step.

There you will see they lead straight to his heart,

That caring compassion from him will not part.

I miss him so much and I wish I could say,

"Matthew, I love you" and he*d be here to stay.

But that would be too simple, too quick to feel good.

It*s not that easy, or else I would.

For now I must wait for things to turn right,

And try to be happy on this Christmas night.

This is a recent poem I wrote about crying. I had been to church camp and of course lots of people cry there and I noticed different ones that didn't want to, guys mostly, and then others that didn't care, and why all the reasons were different for different people*~

We cry when we're happy.

We cry when we're sad.

We cry during good times,

We cry during bad.

It's amazing the emotion

Filled in each salty tear.

Each drop holds a story,

A memory held dear.

So let yourself cry,

No matter the reason.

God gave us those tear drops

To speak without breathing.

A silent word sliding down your cheek,

You mustn't explain for fear you are weak.

No matter the cause, we all understand,

So let those drops fall

To be wiped by God's loving hand.

The next two poems were written on a night I was really distraught about Matt, friends, and life sort of in general. Nothing seemed to be going right and I had no idea what to do or where to turn. (don't worry i wasn't like suicidal or nething!!)*~


Where do you go when on one is there?

What do you feel if you can't care?

How do you live when you're all alone?

When does it end if you're ready to go?

Which way is right when every way's wrong?

Can you do this, if you're never strong?

Where can you be when the world is so blind?

What are the consequences to leaving it behind?

How does this happen?

When will it turn right?

Which friend is faithful?

Can they stop this?

Yeah, right.

This second one is sort of just thoughts written weird*~

I don't know what to do right now. Confusion. That's what I feel. Hate. No. Sadness. Yes. The love of my life wants to leave me. I do not understand. My life is in a million pieces. I can't live it anymore. I need to lock myself in a room forever. Scared. I feel this most of all. And alone. Help!

As you can tell I have many different styles of writing depending on what's going on in my life and the emotions that I feel. This is something I wrote for a book we had to write in English. It's about Matt and the internal struggle between a heart and your mind.*~


Looking through the yellow and brown, like a banana that's gotten too ripe, you see what's not seen. Can you find it? See. If you look close you'll see the twinkle. Quickly, or it will pass you by. The glint of mischief, like that of a young boy trying to keep a secret. But what is the secret? The reason for that spark? Look deep; forget all you see with your eyes. Look with your mind. Look with your heart. There! Did you see it? The secret, the soul within. Your eye tells you it's not so. But your mind. It sees. It knows. That? In those eyes? Your eye tells your mind. Yes it says back. Look at the soul. Your heart agrees. Deeper it tells your eyes. It's not on the outside. Look deeper. Your eyes don't understand. They look in those eyes and say he's bad, he hates you, don't look. Himself. That's what your eyes tell you he cares about. Close your eyes. They don't see. Look with your heart. Your mind knows the way. There. The twinkle, the sparkle, you see? Now you can feel it. Eyes no longer impair. There is the soul your heart knew was there. But careful, the mind says, the heart does trust soon. But eyes love to lie, be careful of them too.

This is a random poem I wrote for school about 4 years ago. I just thought it was kind of cute*~


Waiting to get out of the house.

I sit in the car; my dad comes out.

Driving along, down the country road,

I'm so excited I might explode!

Into the drive; we're closer now.

The car turns off and I step out.

Across the gravel I'm about to shout

But I contain myself for a second longer.

Down the hall I start to wonder,

"What if she's hurt, she can run no longer?!? Or if

she's not there, no it can't be!"

I'm finally there; I look in to see....

My horse staring right back at me!

No cuts or limps she's perfectly all right.

"Boy, I gave myself a fright!"

This isn't a poem but it's a story about a little boy who died when he was three years old. This was another chapter from my book for English*~


I hear the phone ring late in the night. I knew about the wreck John and Seth had been in. John, the dad, and Seth, the most precious little three-year-old you would ever hope to meet. They went to my church. The boy I liked was Seth's older brother. I was worried for the family, but I knew they would be okay. School was starting in the morning so I better get some sleep. I'll leave my worries for the morning.

My alarm clock wakes me up too early. I miss summer already, and I haven't even made it to school yet. I walk lazily into the kitchen where my mom is sitting at the table, thumbing the edge of a placemat. She looks up at me with sadness in her eyes. "Sephie didn't make it," she repeats, in the same way she herself had heard it hours before, even using his nickname, just as Sandy, a good friend of both their family and ours, had done. My brand new fifth grade mind can't understand how this little boy of only three could no longer be there. I'm too in shock to cry. The reality hasn't really hit yet. I go off to school in a daze, trying to figure out how this could all happen. Little Sephie. What an amazing little boy. He will make a good football player, we always said, as we watched him throw the ball to his brother. But now he'll play on earth no longer. I can't understand.

When I come home I get into a Sunday dress and our family drives to the church. I can't bear to go see little Seth in that tiny casket. I don't go inside. Now the tears come. Between my sobs I see my best friend, tissues in hand. We hug and cry. She asks me if I've gone down to see him. I say no, and she hasn't either. We decide to climb the steep blue stairs to the balcony where we can look at a distance. This is almost more than we can handle. We gaze through our tears at the child we saw only days ago laughing and playing in the churchyard.

Finally, we get the courage to go upfront, to talk to his family and look at him more closely so we can say goodbye. It's hard to see him so still and lifeless. As I go through talking to the family his father stops me. My hand in his he tells me a story. A story about just a few days ago when Sephie asked if he could say his own prayer before going to bed. Of course, his father agreed, and Sephie began. Thank you God for my mommy and daddy and for Christian and Adam. And thank you God for Popsicles, which were his favorite. Amen. Through the tears I saw joy in John's eyes. He knew his son was dancing and singing with the Lord Jesus, who even though he was only three, Seth already loved so much. He let go of my hand and I walked to the casket, my best friend at my side. I had always loved to rub the top of Sephie's hair. His haircut made it prickly and he was just so cute you had to touch him. I couldn't say goodbye without feeling that one last time. I ignored the makeup covering the still obvious bruises, I didn't worry about the stitches near my hand; I just reached to his head and rubbed my hand on top of his head.

How I miss that feeling. That joyous laugh, and that beaming smile. He was all too special a boy. I began to realize that God only lets us borrow people for a short while. Sometimes longer than others, but we are still only borrowing them from Him. We are only here to teach and help each other. Sephie was the greatest young teacher. He taught love, hope, and faith. At three he was a walking minister. He spoke of God always. He must've just been too special for God to give up very long, but I'm so glad He did.

This last one is just sort of a gay poem I wrote while I was laying out in the sun, but I'm going to put it on here anyway*~

If i close my eyes i hear the ocean

My imagination won't let me know it's just the wind in the trees

A giant wave comes crashing down

My eyes are closed as I imagine

The sound of seagulls and sandpipers as they scurry away from the salty water

Even the children enjoy this game of tag with the ocean

Their laughter bells ringing jubilantly

The merciless Florida sun warming body and soul

My eyes continue closed, so my mind will never know

A drop of rain felt on my nose, and another on my toes

Eventually my eyes reveal what reality already knows

I look around and see green hills and trees swaying to and fro

And remember I'm in Tennessee and my Florida dreams must go

Here's a few quotes I've made up. Hopefully they'll be somewhat enlightening. Some you may not understand*~

~i finally got exactly what i wanted and the second i did i was giving it up~

~Never underestimate your strength of character becaue the second you do life will prove it to be true~

~Life has its times when thing go right, only to prepare you for the hell that's to come. You can run from life, but you won't get far. Just stand firm and face it and life will go on~

~When in doubt close your eyes, grit your teeth, and let God do the rest~

*** I realize some of these poems and writings are pretty weird and no, I'm not crazy. I use writing as a release from reality and a way to put emotion on paper so that I can deal with life's many problems. These are just a few of my favorites, and I'll probably add more as I find them and write them.***

All poems and writings copyrighted and must have authors permission to use*