RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

Promises made and never kept were to a photographic mind, lies told to a child because the person who promised never did remember what they told a child they would do.

Feeling slighted and lied to, abandoned, no way to shake the supposed distrust that kept being brought out in a little child's mind.
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World turning, twisting in piles of thoughts like leaves stacked for children to jump into them.

Reserving energy for playing in the midst of those colored piles of leaves, looking so pretty.
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This mind has traveled the world over, holding onto memories blending rhythmically in throes of a united world as we gather and take back our freedom we so un-wittingly let slip away.

Now awake and fighting intensely all the foolhardy laziness that we never should've held onto, our dreams about to be drowned in a socialist government.
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Results of an ending of love, alone in a puddle of total remorse, not knowing what's happened, trying to put back the pieces we had grown to love.

Now these day's edges have been frayed, being loosened and losing their endurance that was needed to keep it all together, but all the pieces have been lost.
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Looking into a bluened light of the Divine, knowing that this life is almost at its end, nothing able to be held onto, a risk of fate and destiny that can never be avoided in this life of
humanity.

Taking chances that fall quickly from our hands, nothing to be done, just standing back and watching everything fall apart, another episode of life gone by, leaving everything to
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Mirror close, seeing the wrinkles of senior years as they stare back from reflections of lines that seemed to have come over the horizon.

All measures being seen are quietly disappearing, being dispersed into a cloudy outdoors tonight, no chances of showers, sitting in echoes of the past, a lasting monument of what might have been.
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Flower showers descending slowly upon each of us, letting our hearts have mistaken loves that are hesitant, not allowing them any room, turning them away, hearts shunning everyone.

Pulling it into the darkness that's settled and kept us going, only now there's no logic or reason to do so, for there's no more love being seen in a sensible shower of a tender yesterday.
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Being born on the wrong side of the tracks, looking across them, seeing neon lights as they beckon hearts to break away the shackles and restraints holding poor people on the wrong side of the tracks.

Never wanting poverty to play alongside rich children, but what difference does it really make, for aren't we all born equal as an integral part of humanity, we're all just mere human beings after all.
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Parties, picnics and presents coming together at children's birthday parties, singing Happy Birthday and smiling happily at children's pleasure.

There's no one in charge, yet all have the same feelings as they age, saying that age is only a number, and it means nothing at all.
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Words of bereavement mentioned so often in this temporary life on earth.

Their only meaning being that you have done something
wrong or hurt a person's feelings.
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