Can you really see me.. at all?
Not the words on the screen
Or the image in your head
But me
The walls between us block the truth
Is the love truly there?
Leaves blow through an empty space
It’s the desolation of my expectations
As I have chased the wild mare
A revolution gone by
Memories cut like knives
Scoring her troubled mind
Competing with shadows
Expectations gone by
Am I really there at all to her
Or just an effigy to be used, sacrificed
To quill the frigid heart
To remind of a life, a love
There but somehow not
A mirage of someone she used to love
Do I stand as her dream of a man that she needs, but is gone?
To fill a hole she didn’t know existed at all
Or am I a hope for a future she thinks she wants?
The more I try to close the gap
To solidify the ties that bind
The more elusive she becomes
Sliding evermore out of my reach
Like grabbing clouds at Twilight
Chasing images in the thick fog
There yet , not elusive and unobtainable
Regardless of techniques or desire
Do I have a chance at all, really?
Am I chasing ghosts, as elusive as air
Everywhere yet nowhere at the same time
Am I real to her, actually?
Can she really see me… at all?
An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe
The Wicked Game
Sundered heart, the dreams yet dreamt
A future in the foggy twilight of days yet spent
A purpose undefined, with love not yet given
In moments of passion of a night’s unspent
Will it be her, or will she not be
I question the choices presented before me
Love peace or wealth yet gained
As I am left to dwell and contemplate
Youth, beauty, a passion unwrought
Loyalty, promise, and the prizes I’ve sought
A lifetime leads to this point.. this path
The way is shrouded, so many desires to sate
In the stillness of my own troubled mind
I wonder the irony of the fated design
After a lifetime of silence, suddenly granted a muse
Given a gift, a blessing to live life anew
Choices to make, pathways to choose
So much to gain, so much to lose
Am I wicked for wanting it all?
After so much emptiness, can I breach the wall
To my own heaven, eden unbound
To my personal salvation,
Released by the unforgiving fate
My soul had been bound.
Beauty of the spirit
Beauty of the soul
A Beauty yet experienced
A Beauty to behold
Moments in peace
In love in light
Choices unchosen
Wonders of forbidden nights
I stand in the quiet times
Contemplating times yet to come
Lives yet experienced
Love yet to be won
An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe
