The Girl of Shadows [COMPLETE]

Bonus - Poetry 1

Hey friends! I like poetry and I'm sure you do too so that's why I'm making three chapters dedicated to ones I find on Pinterest. I didn't write most of these, or possibly a few. And enjoy the ones I've found.

The Writer
She has a bookshelf for a heart,
And ink runs through her veins,
She'll write you into her story,
With the typewriter in her brain,
Her bookshelf's getting crowded,
With all the stories that she's penned,
Of the people who flicked through her pages,
But closed the book before the end,
And there's one pushed to the very back,
That sits collecting dust,
With its title in her finest writing,
"The One's Who Lost My Trust,"
There's books she's scared to open,
And books she doesn't close,
Stories of every person she's met,
Stretched out in endless rows,
Some people have only a sentence,
While others held a main part,
Thousands of inky footprints,
That they've left across her heart,
You might wonder why she does this,
Why write of people she once knew?
But she hopes one day she'll mean enough,
For someone to write about her too.
-Erin Hanson

If you ask me
If you ask me what my dreams are,
My mind draws a blank ;
I prefer to dream with my eyes wide open ;
It gives my eyes room to think.
If you ask me what I'm craving,
I'd say a hefty dose of soul food ;
You know salt, sun, sand and fresh air ;
Throw in a rainy day run too.
If you ask me where I'm going,
I'd say I haven't a single clue ;
I've never known, never will,
Think roads are crazy, and prefer if I flew.
If you ask me what I do,
Just be prepared to hear me laugh ;
A single noun or adjective ;
Oh man, we are all so much more than that.
If you ask me what I regret,
It might make me cry ;
Why take time to stir up those memories
You forgave or forgot and chose to let fly.
If you ask me what I love,
Hopefully you could see my heart smile ;
Since only a few things occupy that acreage
That make each breath worthwhile.
So maybe stop asking questions for a bit
And just sit and be with me
Then together we can dance with the thought
Of how lovely being in a moment can be.
-Rebekah Steen

People are not Poetry
You can write for hours on hours,
Of all the things you wish you could be,
But the truth of the matter is simple,
People are not poetry.
And I know that you wish you weren't awkward,
That sweet words could roll right off your tongue,
But your time here's just too short to worry,
How each single sentence is strung.
It's okay to be rough around the edges,
To be bruised up and broken and scarred,
But it's not okay to let people tell you,
That it's a reason to change who you are.
Your hair doesn't always sit neatly,
The way a poem sits so neatly in lines,
And sometimes you might feel like a word,
That nobody has learnt to define.
You might not be a star that lights darkness,
Or a bird that can teach us to soar,
But it's okay, because you are too complex,
To be crammed into one metaphor.
It's okay to not know what you're doing,
Since your feelings do not have to all rhyme,
Though a poem once complete is eternal,
You have the freedom to change over time.
You're so much more than can ever be written,
There is no title to say, "This Is Me",
You can't be trapped in the lines of a notebook,
Because people are not poetry.
-Erin Hanson

Little Stargazer
Keep your chin up little stargazer,
At worlds above our own ;
You are small but you are stardust,
And that's worth more than you've known.
For every sun and solar flare
Is made up just like you,
And if they're cause for wonder
Then I promise you are too.
Look out little stargazer
Til nothing's left unseen,
And know there's not a patch of sky
Where no-one else's eyes have been.
That the darkness that unfolds you
Holds other countless starlit hearts,
And with this you stand together
Though you live lifetimes apart.
Be brave now little stargazer
The sky is growing light,
And courage wanes like moonbeams
When it's pulled out from the night.
But like those who gazed before you ;
Know when your heart is full of fear,
That it is always in your darkness
That the stars start to appear.
-Erin Hanson

Trapped
I'm my biggest problem,
I'm my very last hope,
My pathetic-ness is crumbling,
I still don't know how to cope.
My mind is always on the run,
Yet my body stays forever frozen,
I always find myself stunned,
At the paths of which I've chosen.
My best never seems good enough,
My best self can't compete,
Every single day seems tough,
My worst self is hard to defeat.
Constantly in a state of depression,
Even when life's going well,
It's a different kind of oppression,
Being trapped in your own personal hell.
I know things could be worse,
But things could always be better,
Thinking I'll only find peace in a hearse,
Only content when I'm six feet under.
I think of all the people I'd leave behind,
I think about their sadness,
But if only they could read my mind,
Witness my mind's madness.
-Marilen Sansait

(I really like Erin Hanson, so, yeah deal with it.)

To be continued...