Imagination
When people said,
Walk a mile in my shoes!
did they get mad
when you did and found no wrong.
And then they pronounced,
the grass is greener on the other side,
yet on your side,
it was still winter.
Then they get frustrated and cry,
treat others as you wish to be treated.
So you stopped talking because the way you treat yourself
is too cruel to treat other people.
So anger then fills them
as they scream and shout.
Yet all the while you're gone,
you've escaped their grip and have flown away.
Soaring above all,
you watch the people down below,
As you have pity on them,
you're mind blanks it out.
Alone again you dream.
That world of confusion is gone.
Your fantasies close in
and you lose all reality.
Sabrina Mari Adams
Go To Top!South Dakota
When it's springtime in SD,
and the gentle breeze blows
at about seventy miles an hour
and it's fifty two below
you can tell you're in South Dakota
Cauz' the snows up to your butt
and you take a deep breath of springtime air
and your nostril holes freeze shut.
The weather here is wonderful
So I guess I'll hang around SD
because my feet are frozen to the ground.
Author Unknown
Go To TopNightmares
I look into my dreams
and see a scared child
yet I never know what's going on,
cauz' it's my little nightmare.
The only thing I see, you know
are hopes and dreams that are broken
And yet, I never know what's going on
Because it's my little nightmare.
I question when I wake,
hoping it won't take long.
And yet, I never know what's going on,
cauz' it's my little nightmare.
Shivering and Shaking, I lie.
confused to see more.
And yet I never know what's going on,
Cauz' it's my little nightmare.
Maybe someday they will end
and the saddness and crying will stop
Yet I never know what's going on,
cauz' it's my little nightmare.
Sabrina Mari Adams
Go to Top!A poet's words
He looks at the world
thru a glass mirror
he doesn't see the fake,
only the reality of it all.
The pain and tourture
rest in his eyes
and is then released
onto a sheet of paper.
It's a poem he's writing
a great one at that.
Yet one skeptic will hate it
and maybe the rest of the world.
His words were written
like a symphony of moods,
but, alas, he says
they are only feelings.
He feels it has no meaning
As he throws it in the can.
Now the greatest poem, with it's perfect splender,
Is never to be read, rememebered, or hated by any skeptic.
So, don't judge the words of others
for one day they may be gone
see all for what it's worth
Not for waht you want it to be.
Sabrina Mari Adams
Go to Top!Words by Poems
Poems are
nothing but words
scrawled out for all to see.
In the eyes of the writer
they have a meaning,
becuase of a person's being.
Being themselves the best they can,
Being someone they're not
trying to please all.
but poems are not people,
they are words,
placed carefully on some paper.
Sabrina Mari Adams
Go to top!
