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Sometimes I wonder what would happen if if i did all the things i wanted to do while i was young, old, and in-between.

I want to have a picnic in the forest hold onto those who are close keep my memories safe, so i can cherish them

I think i love too much, but, i am afraid as well afraid i will love someone so much and in turn they will hurt me

i wonder if someday, i can cherish the memories i have now. With those i love now in the moment.

perhaps we will have that picnic or that tea party maybe i can have that bond and freely love and wonder no matter how old or young we are

#poetry #poem #corvidcore #goblincore #cottagecore #memory poem #memory poetry #cryptidcore #crowcore #voidpunk #voidcore #mooncore #screaming into the void #poeticguts

"What do you gather?" the maiden said, Shaking her sunlit curls at me— "See, these flowers I plucked are dead, Ah! misery." "What do you gather?" the miser said, Clinking his gold, as he spoke to me— "I cannot sleep at night for dread Of thieves," said he. "What do you gather?" the dreamer said, "I dream dreams of what is to be; Daylight comes, and my dreams are fled, Ah! woe is me." "What do you gather?" the young man said— "I seek fame for eternity, Toiling on while the world's abed, Alone," said he. "What do I gather?" I laughing said, "Nothing at all save memory, Sweet as flowers, but never dead, Like thine, Rosie." "I have no fear of thieves," I said, "Daylight kills not my reverie, Fame will find I am snug abed, That comes to me." "The past is my treasure, friends," I said, "Time but adds to my treasury, Happy moments are never fled Away from me." "All one needs to be rich," I said, "Is to live that his past shall be Sweet in his thoughts, as a wild rose red, Eternally."

Arthur Weir

#arthur weir #my treasure #memory #memory poem #memory poetry #remembrance

would i see you there by pd lyons

would i see you there

with your big face smiles

your sense of wonder

your denim styles

you were shy to me

yet you followed me

when I turned around,

until you betrayed by your own laughter

I had no idea

What you would dare.

But where ever you are now

I cannot say

Whatever you went through I have no clue

Those streets those hometown streets

Once mine

Once yours

I have not returned

I have not…

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#brass city #denim styles #Love poem #memory poetry

Are you there?

Sometimes I’m here, sometimes I’m there, other times I don’t know, I just don’t know.

It used it be simple, everything used to seem so clear, we were happy once, I felt free, I felt something.

Now though, now it’s like there’s a fucking chain wrapped around my soul dragging me down.

It’s 5am and I’m lost.

I remember when you left or did I leave? It seems so long ago, we never really said goodbye, I see you sometimes in my dreams but like the memories they are fading.

Every memory is a duplicate of the last, a photocopy of my life, growing darker and less tangible.

And then you’re here, You’re here, You’re there, You’re here, And then you’re gone... Well fuck you!

No, I mean…

Please come back, I’m sorry, I can’t even remember if it’s my fault but still I’m sorry. Are you there?