Poem: Letting You go

I do not know how to let you go.

I tried to run, but the shadows always appeared.

I looked for shelter in the arms of another, but the storm always came.

They say lovers never die and I think they might be right.

I feel the eyes of the ocean watching me.

The thoughts of wanting anything, but only getting stuck with fear.

Trying to see the world, but only realizing that mines revolves around yours.

There is no turning back when the clock strikes.

I know we cannot be forever.

I need to just learn to finally let you go.

Poem: Where to Go?

A sense of sorrow is filled with worry.

A love of light is no longer shinning bright.

Time is running so the pain starts to sit.

Hitting the valleys but missing the lows.

The water is rising so the machines start working faster.

Then it all ends as the words can no longer hold the door.

You tried to make things better, but what exactly is that.

The place of settle is starting to become stress.

Nothing hitting the goals that used to beat your chest.

Wondering is this the path that one must take.

Then you see that light is no longer at the end of the tunnel.

You start to wonder; now where do you go?

Poem: Letting it Go

I cannot love you anymore.

Because I do not love me, and that is all you need.

The stars are aligned, but my knees are weak.

To hold the world means to have it all.

Now I choose to let it go.

Though the wind is high, and the season has change.

The love that blooms in me has died again.

This is the last time you will hear me say those three words that for which you pray.

You are free to go, and I am letting you be

Just understand it is not you it is only me.

Now go weep and dry those tears.

Hate me as you will, but this is it my dear.

The highs were high, and lows were cold.

But you do not love me, and now I see it clear.

One last thing I need to say.

Thank you for teaching me pain does not always come with tears.

Poem: Gotta Go

I just cannot be the moon that grows trees.

The light that shows the animals the way.

The day has come for me to walk, and I just want to run.

I know this is not correct, but there is nothing else.

The tress no longer bring fruit.

The stars no longer make me sing.

This is the only way this could be.

You will never know the struggle of me.

The list is long, and the pen has run out of ink.

The road is calling me, and this time I am going to take that train.