Sometimes you just need to run

Sometimes you just need to run, To heaven and back Admire the sky, the moon for a while And come back with rosy cheeks To see life as you did Back then With your pink dress And your matching ribbon.   @mena.poetry Foto: Ídem                

Ginko

The old tree smiles back at me, I tried to forget, but when I'm locked in a room with my killer I cannot see their face I can't find a way out Though the old tree may offer Its never-ending branches I try to take one, but it snaps, My trust is thus wronged thrice,...

To Narcissus

I can’t see why you Drowning seems a Lesson learned From your tale. To me, you're Nothing short Of a hero who Died for the noblest of causes. You seem to me no less than a Romeo in the Least pathetic Sense of the name, It’s simply that your story Makes more sense, You died...

In her eyes

In her eyes, impulsive, passionate, Green and bright but -odd, It was odd and he knew he shouldn’t- He should ignore them, look away- But he knew he just couldn’t- And with more sin came more beauty In the mirror of her decadence: Delight, for her charm lay only In her glaring neglect of duty....

All heartbreak

All heartbreak All moonlight To the ones who Kept their words Even though the Star-crossed Hypocrites Were lurking   All heartbreak All moonlight All bullshit.   @mena.poetry Foto: Ídem                

Being beautiful

Being beautiful is Not being pretty. It's how you talk, How you walk, it's Not wearing this Or wearing that, it's How it's worn. Beautiful isn't bought, It can't be learnt it Simply is; or not. Being beautiful is rare. It is a gift that cannot Be wrapped. Beauty is walked in, But not walked...

The laurel wreath

Atalanta was fast, But not fast enough, Andromeda was brave, But not brave enough, Antigone just, But suffered injustice, Cassandra sharp-sighted, But sewed disbelief, Persephone disguised, And yet bore her fate- To be tied to a god, A fate many may envy- But heavy lies the head That shares the laurel wreath.   @mena.poetry Foto:...

In her world of excess

In her world of excess, Nothing lives purely symmetrical: Her jewels, Her collarbones, The blue of her eyes- Dead. The blue of her eyes, Her collarbones, Her jewels Purely symmetrical. Nothing lives In her world of excess.   @mena.poetry Foto: Ídem      

A voice is raised

A voice is raised Among the drunken crowd, Nobody listens because- Hurry up please, it’s time. But she’s desperate, but still, She tries, nobody listens, it’s all- Hurry up please, it’s time. In vain, she won’t be heard She cannot breathe she’ll suffocate- Hurry up please, it’s time.   silence.   @mena.poetry Foto: Ídem  ...