....Okay, I am finally putting some of my things up here. Here goes nothing.


LONELY

Am I the only one?
The only one that feels pain, betrayal, hate?
Am I the only one hiding behind a smile?
The only one with a secret, a secret that is deadly?
Am I the only one in a crowded room?

Why am I so lonely when I have a companion?
Why am I so lonely when people want me near?
Why am I so lonely when some one wants to know my opinion?

I can scream out in a crowded room,
But who will hear my pain?
Who will come to my rescue?
Who will cradle me in a world that is so lonely?

Am I the only one?
Am I alone,
Or am I just lonely?

© Erin Leigh/ Professor Loel

I'm not a poet, I am a writer. So bare with me. Please.

DEEP DOWN

...This sucks.
No one understands how hard it is.
Being me.
It feels as though I am my only friend, as though the bright light at the end of the tunnel, the one that shown so bright in my past, the one that gave me hope, hope to keep going, the one that gave me security, has been turned off.
Instead, I am walking farther into the darkness, into the cold, dreary world without a map; A place where I do not belong.
Yet, I am there. Alone.
There is laugher coming from the mouths of others, smiles dancing upon their lips. I try the same, I try to be sucked into the happiness, into the fun, but the darkness surrounds me like a sheild, all the things I long for richocheting off of it, or being sucked into the pitch black. It is as though I am marooned on a deserted island in the middle of a dark, deep ocean. My only escape: Me. Being me.

© Erin Leigh/ Professor Loel

WE ARE

I am a rebel.
I wear white socks.
You are a rebel.
You sing in the shower.
We are rebels.
We are not.
I am a genius.
I can tie my shoes.
You are a genius.
You can cross the street.
We are geniuses.
We are not.
I am a norm.
I follow the crowd.
You are a norm.
You yield on yellow.
We are normal.
We are not.

© Erin Leigh/ Professor Loel

This one has a peice I wrote that goes along with it... You can find that in my Blurty by the title of Cold Feet, Cold Hands...

I like the second one. (of course I knew what it was before you posted it here) but I like the first one too. Good poems. :up:

omg ein i love these, i am feeling them right now too :up:

Oohh Erin i love them too your such a good writer :up:

UNTITLED

....You know those kind of people,
the kind that stay in the shadows of the trees,
the kind that wear sweatshirts and pants in the summer, the kind that talk in hushed tones and only to their fellow comrades,
supposedly talking about the "popular" people.
The kind of people that say what they want to say,
but in different forms,
in poetry,
art.
In writing.
Yeah, those kind of people.
The ones that are ostracised for their individuality, ostracised because they are different.
Yet, they are just like you.
Out of place, in a world where the media dictates,
the librals brain wash,
and yes,
oh yes,
you rely on the opinion of your peers.
Do you care?
We all do.
Even the kind of people that stay in the shadows of the trees.
Should you care?
No.
Not even those who wear sweatshirts and pants in summer,
or those that talk in hushed tones.
It's life.
Live it.

© Erin Leigh/ Professor Loel

Thanks guys. Some of them I took out of my Blurty... But I have other writings in my Blurty that you guys might like.

UNTIL NOW

What happened to the happy thoughts?
The laughter?
Nothing.
They are still there, you just can't see them.

It's depressing.
Like being blind folded from the truth.
A map leading you in the wrong direction.

Life is a living H e l l,
A tree suffocating from the roots of another.
One miserable human being is like droppin a pebble into an undisturbed lake.

They cause ripples.
Ripples of sadness.
Of pain.

An uncurable virus spreading rapidly from one person to another.
Unstoppable.
Until now.
© Erin Leigh/ Professor Loel

SO LONG

I was walking in my own puddle of tears for so long,
Walking into disaster, pain, sadness.
Walking forever and ever, never knowing where I was headed.

I was standing in my kitchen, knife to my throat, for so long,
Contemplating the unthinkable,
In attempt to walk away from it all.
Walking forever and ever, knowing I was closer my destiny.

I was lying in the ground for so long,
Watching new tears fall,
Tears of disaster, pain, sadness,
As I smile at those who miss me.

I was sitting on a cloud, for so long,
Looking down on those who loved me,
Trying to remember what it was like.
Sitting forever and ever, wishing I was still walking in my puddle.

© Erin Leigh/ Professor Loel

yeah.....

here is one of my favourites I wrote when Manda (crazy4wood) and I were comparing each other's poetic skills. She won.

THE ORIGINAL

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
Some poems rhyme,
But this doesn't.

© Erin Leigh/Professor Loel


(there is another version, but, I am not going to post it just because it's kinda bad... if you know what I mean.)

Okay, I just wrote this about thirty seconds ago.... it's not that great, I hate it, but whatever....


I KNOW

I shiver from head to toe
When your lips touch mine
Every thing I know,

Has disappeared,
What is left is you,
Your touches divine.

I feel my knees give way,
Flowing with your every move,
Together forever is all I pray

But I know, deep down,
It will all be over soon,
As I wake with the dawn
And sleep with the moon.

For you are not here,
All day I spend crying,
Tear after tear.

Will you ever feel what I felt?
Probably not.
You’re gone, revenge dealt.

© Erin Leigh/ Professor Loel

well?

oh wow! Another one! Gee...

SHANGRI-LA

Welcome to Shangri-la.
Where the birds sing, the sun glows

And where every human being
Wishes they could go.

This is my home.
My paradise,

The only escape from bad advice
No danger no sadness,

Just saftey and gladness,
And beauty for miles and miles.

© Erin Leigh/ Professor Loel


okay, this one is an old one I did and I lost the last stanza... haha my bad... anyway, whatever.

Okay, this poem is really bad, what ever... Tell me what you think... I need to fix it, I know.

FORGOTTEN

Just another painting on the highest wall in the darkest room.
Just another forbidden happiness, abandoned home.

Just another person with a black eye,
Walking down a dangerous path half blind.

Just another person awaiting their call,
Awaiting their destiny that will change their lives
And shape their future.

Just another person who knows destiny has come and gone.

Just another cold night on the highest wall in the darkest room...

Forgotten.

© Erin Leigh/ Professor Loel

.... I don't know...

i love your work, and "I know" is wonderful i love it

Interesting.... very interesting....

This is a peice I wrote a while ago.. thought I would show you guys.... (this is also in my Blurty... tee hee hee)

A CLOCK WITH WINGS

...It feels like only yesterday, when my sister and I actually got along, we would watch the raindrops slip off the windows. We'd each pick one and race them down the glass, the winner's raindrop reaching the window sill first. She always won. I think that was only because I liked the cute little raindrops that took their time picking their way through the other raindrops to reach the bottom. Aimee always chose the ones that flew right down, carelessly bumping into the others, and taking them down with it.
It feels like only yesterday, when my sister and I actually got along, I would be invited to sleep in her room on Christmas Eve and we would wake eachother up before dawn, race eachother down the stairs, dump out our stockings, and analize our loot. We would attempt to put them back the way we found them and make our way quietly into the living room where the tree was. In silence, we would compliment each other on the fabulous gifts we recieved from "Santa" (whom I never beleived in, but Aimee did, for my sake) and go back up stairs to bed until seven when we would awake my parents and open presents.
It feels like only yesterday, when my sister and I faught a bit, she would take a long time to braid my hair in two almost perfect plaits and tie them with bows before we were to go some place. Of course, I would go look in the mirror, determine that I looked too girly and she made them uneven and then destroy them, making my sister red with fury. I felt bad, but that wasn't until after I had pulled them out and saw the look upon my sister's face.
It feels like only yesterday, when my sister and I faught a bit, that she would go in my closet after I left for school and borrow a shirt to wear that day. I would come home and see her in my shirt and go crazy, complaining to my mother that she had borrowed my favorite shirt without my permission and stained it with juice. The stain, of course, being the one I had put on it the week before. Then, the next day, I would find myself foraging through her closet, just as she had done, and borrowing something without her permission. The row would begin when I arrived home, and then I would come to the conclusion that we were "even".
It feels like only yesterday, when my sister and I rarely got along, that we were both graduating from our schools. She from high school, I from junior high. As I watched her recieve her diploma, I realized that Aimee, the same ditzy teenager that drives horribly, can make me laugh hysterically, make me so angry, and so happy, was not only a genius, but my sister. My sister. My sister that races raindrops, disects stockings, steals my clothes, and makes me furious, is going off to college. Going of to college and leaving us behind. Me behind. My sister is my Vogue magazine, my cheuffer, my enemy, my best friend, and my dictator. She is also the same person that I have taken for granted for a long time now.
I tell every one that I won't miss her at all, that I will be happy she is gone, that I will finally be able to get all the attention, play the role of an only child, and not be baby sat. I may tell every one that, but inside, it is all a lie.
I know I will miss her. It will hit me some time soon that her clothes will no longer be in her closet, my toothpaste will no longer be stolen, and the tapping of her dance shoes on the garage floor will no longer be heard. We will no longer share laughter, no longer scream obscene things at each other, no longer share our victories and defeats. The door to her bright pink room will always be closed, just like it is now, but when I knock to go in, I will not hear the sound of my sister's voice telling me to leave her alone, or the sweet coo of her accepting my presence. I will hear nothing. Just the echo of my fist hitting the door three times and the silence after wards.
It feels like only yesterday, when my sister and I actually got along, we were just children. Enjoying each other's company; laughing together, singing together, dancing together, fighting together, crying together, and just being together.
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way. And now it's over, yet it has just begun.

© Erin Leigh/ Professor Loel 2003

Please tell me what you think!

THANK YOU

Thank you for being nothing but another clone,
Thank you for keeping me company,
Thank you for leaving me alone.

Thank you for being a liar,
Thank you for being true,
Thank you for being my lonely heart's deepest desire.

You are there for me and I can't complain,
You are my shelter,
My rock,
You are my second brain.

Thank you for being something more than just a friend,
Thank you for being mean,
Thank you for sticking with me until the bitter end.

Thank you for your sacrifice,
Thank you for being something you are not,
Thank you for always giving me really bad advice.

You were always the one I could count on,
You were my motivation,
My sense of direction,
You were, but now, you’re gone.

© Erin Leigh/ Professor Loel

its a great poem :up:

HER

The hallway was crowded with students,
Some walking fast to get to their class,
Others taking their sweet time.
But she stood out.
She walked down the hall at a normal pace,
Her book bag over one shoulder, her posture slouched.
Her brows furrowed and lips pursed.
She looked entirely normal with her hands in her pockets,
And her brown hair pulled back.
And as she looked up at me with those big emerald eyes,
I could tell she was more than that.
I watched her go, and as I did, she turned back and smiled,
Before she vanished.
Back into the seas of students.

© Erin Leigh/ Professor Loel

TWO BRAINS, ONE HEART, ONE FACE

Sometimes, I wish I were some one else. Someone completely different. Someone with no secrets to hide, no vices to eliminate, and no horrid thoughts flooding my brain. I wish I was a girl who always smiled, no matter what, who always laughed, and always loved. A girl that people enjoyed being around because of her energy and positivity. Instead, I am a girl- a girl so different from how people see me. I am a girl with a bright smile, a loving energy. I am a girl with dark secrets and eternal tears. A girl who's heart does not remember love, for what love goes to it, gets lost in its abysmal darkness. A girl who just wants to scream it out to everyone- Tell any body who would listen- what was going on inside her. I just want one person-only one, that can relate to me, that understands what goes on in my head. And with this one person, I pray, that they will listen, and be with me- comfort me, and allow me, through all my suffering, to cling to them. Although I may be that girl, the girl with the smiles and the tears, the love and the hate, I still need comfort, support, understanding- Something I do not know. And perhaps, that one who I cling to will turn on the light in my pitch black heart, a miniscule light that shines from afar, and from that light, starts a rebirth, a process of reproduction or spawning of more lights, making the pitch brighter and brighter, my sorrows lesser and lesser, and my smiles more and more. And even though I may be happy, I shall suffer on, and only then, as I suffer, I shall cling to them. To you.

© Erin Leigh/ Professor Loel