Poetry and Poetic Prose
Poems and poetically written prose.
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Lifeless butterflies, dead and dry, rest in their perpetual state upon a lovely journal that has yet to have its virgin pages marked with the scratching of a barely legible hand. Dead yet beautiful are the butterflies. Promising but empty is the journal. Thoughts can be as fragile as the wings of a dead and
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There is a pathThat leads to eternity,Where trees guide the wayWith unwavering certainty. There is a path where pain ceasesAnd dreams are released,Where one’s level of consciousnessIs greatly increased. There is a pathThat if you dare follow,What you are today,You shall no longer be tomorrow. There is a path to understandingWhere you will instinctively know,The
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Perceptions often distorted, Things not always as they seem; Reality is often illusion,That which is but a dream. What appears to be happiness,Is merely a cheerful mask;Nothing but a pleasant fiction,A daily perfected task. Can love break all barriers?Can it save an aching soul?Can it redeem a self-betrayal?Can it make an empty heart whole? A lifetime of
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As I walked a path of orange and gold,The crisp feeling of the autumn air;I found myself lost in the memory of you,And pondered how life was unfair. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath,Had I come to terms with my choice?Sorrow washed in and filled me with regret;In my mind echoes the
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There is beauty inThe little things,Like song bird wingsAnd front porch swings. There is beauty everywhere,All around;The clouds in the sky,The flowers on the ground. There is beautyAnd if you try,You can see itAnd it may make you cry; For there is beauty inYour heart and soul,That will withstand timeAnd never grow old. From my
SB LACROIX 