Margaret Sok
Words are so much more than simple writings on paper
Margaret Sok
Words are so much more than simple writings on paper
Words are so much more than simple writings on paper
Words are so much more than simple writings on paper
Upon the room filled with dust and dew,
a small desk stands—
Tried and true.
Old ink splatters the pale oak desk;
Curled up papers
With aged words; a sight so grotesque.
The words follow a haunting pattern of detail;
Words of love
Turn sour and frail.
Letters on the desk spread,
Like leaves in autumn—
The words remain, yet they are utterly dead....
I have an endeavor to attempt to speak a word;
To finally accomplish being fitly heard.
Each and every time I am able to speak to you,
I find my words have disappeared and my mouth has withdrew.
The unspoken words between us
Are building up, hurting to even discuss.
My lips are stitched close
With the haunting factor of a finally adios.
But please, I beg of you,
Listen to my silent voice,...
As we land, the sudden notice of bare life catches our attentions.
No light, no sounds, no smells, beyond the space scent of dust and time.
Stars do not twinkle in the abandoned outpost, nor are there any light lamps.
Everything is still, like a lake on a windless day.
Sand mounds spot the area of desertion.
With a hint of light, we spot small stone structures, yet they are completely destroy...
Standing in the audience, I await the words from my teacher.
She stands and presents a poem of mine I composed.
She reads the title, I cringe.
She reads the poem, I blare red.
She finished the poem, sorrowful looks glance my way.
She read a poem of deep meaning, yet sad and depressing.
Every eye stares upon me, casting silent pity.
Yet, I sit there embarrassed, and broken further....
We knew it would dangerous, yet one cannot reject love.
Lucius Starshale, the infamous warrior, built with beauty and grace, yet can wield a sword like no other man.
He’s made many enemies, some with powerful people.
Many wish to break him down; wish to make him suffer as they have.
Sitting, with my hands chained, I wish for Lucius.
His warmth could melt the ice starting to freeze over my ve...
Seated above a throne of pain,
I can’t help but always feel this disdain.
Every glance and reflection
Makes my face sour with my imperfection.
I yearn to finally accept my unique beauty
Yet I fall back down, splittering cruelty.
I wish to finally accomplish my dream
Of loving myself—a good self-esteem....
The dim, dark alleyway calls to me.
My target stands against the brick wall, selling stolen jewelry.
He has what I want—my mother’s necklace.
I have to be swift and careful. If Nevan knew I was out, risking my life, he’d kill me.
“That ring will suit your wife just perfectly,” Ronan laughs to a customer.
His sick, greedy fingers clutch my mother’s precious necklace.
I will not lose the las...
Smoke clambered my face as I walked down the crusty, ill-covered streets.
Numerous people were striding and walking, with their phones to their ears and looks of annoyance and seriousness.
No light, smiles, nor joy fluttered the streets.
Some people were wailing; crying about the pain of life.
No one reached out their hand to help or comfort.
Small rodents walked the same path as I.
Concrete...
Don’t wake in a world where the trees all died—
Where Mother Nature floods rivers from her broken pride.
The green gleam of forest leaves,
And soft scents of maple and pine—
They wish to live
Just as you and I.
Don’t wake in a world where beauty is destroyed;
Where every block lays concrete and darkness.
Wake in a world of light and darkness void;
Where flowers grow on every step of grass;
W...
Winter, O wispy Winter,
I cannot fathom how you hinder
Nothing but the pure woe
That splinters from your soft snow.
Effortlessly along, I’ve seen your weariness—
Revolting coldness and constant dreariness
In times of despair,
Suffering becomes, yet you couldn’t care.
Alas, Winter! Do not freeze your heart;
Lovely things call, yet you set them to depart!
O Winter! Hath you feel any pity?
Noth...