Weary Heart / Home in Your Eyes
I've found what feels like home.
I'm tired.
I'm tired of a lot of things
These days
I feel run down
I feel like I can't keep clawing
At these things
That are never going to
Turn out right for me.
I'm tired of walking on eggshells
In my own life
I'm tired of feeling unsure
Of my road ahead
I'm tired of preparing
My mind
For my next heartbreak
Out of fear
Of the unknown
I'm tired.
But I promise,
My whole life through
You are someone
I will never get tired of
You are a flame
In a cold, dark night
A light in the blackest
Of shadows
I will fight
And work for you
All of my days
In this life and the next
I want to do
All that I can
To make you smile
To feel the spark
Between ourselves
To keep the flame
Living forever
I've grown weary
From so many things
But one kind word
Leaving your lips
Makes me want to shout
And run into the twilight
For nothing awakens me
Like light in your eyes.
About the Creator
C.G. Remmet
I like music, mean jokes, and a variety of gas station snacks.
Painfully honest about the messes I get myself into.
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Homeward Bound
I am up late. Again. But tonight, it's different. It's an unusually warm night. There's a breeze; not enough to be disturbing, but enough to make the leaves on the trees rustle, and to make the stars look especially bright. I feel good tonight. I have not had a drop to drink, and I ate a normal meal.
By C.G. Remmet6 years ago in Motivation
"An Orchestra of American Excellence"
In the core of the immense American spread, Where skies paint dreams with shades gigantic, There lies a vista, a sight divine, Where nature's beauty and workmanship join. In Yosemite's hug, the mountains take off, Their tough pinnacles, Grand from there, The sky is the limit, An orchestra of greens and gold’s, Where stories of old terrains unfurl. Through Fantastic Gorge's gap, Waterways wander, Cutting murmurs in stone, An old book, Layers of time revealed, Uncovered, in each cleft, a story forced. Along the shores of Acadia, waves dance, Their cadenced tides, a mesmerizing daze, Where bluffs meet ocean in quiet veneration, A work of art of seaside polish. In the core of Yellowstone's wild hug, Fountains emit, A heavenly elegance, Painting the sky with warm tones, A scene that eternity follows. From the moving slopes of Tuscany, California. To the blazing sparkle of Arizona's Sahara, America's vistas, each a material interesting, Welcome the spirit to meander and dare. So let us wander these terrains untamed, Where magnificence and marvel stay unchained, In each vista, a brief look at the heavenly, In the immortal scenes of the American line. In the core of the tremendous American region lies a perpetual embroidered artwork of magnificence, Woven with strings of miracle and painted with shades that oppose the creative mind. From the transcending pinnacles of the Rough Mountains to the peaceful shores of the Incomparable Lakes, Every vista murmurs privileged insights of the land, Welcoming investigation and consideration. In the hug of the Smoky Mountains, Fog grips to the valleys like a sweetheart's hug, Relaxing the rough edges of old pinnacles. Daylight channels through the overhang, Dappling the backwoods floor with brilliant kisses, While the tunes of birds weave songs that reverberation through the trees. Across the fields of the Midwest, Fields stretch to the skyline like an interwoven unique blanket, Sewed along with columns of corn and soybeans. The sky curves above, A huge territory of blue that appears to extend on everlastingly, Hindered simply by an intermittent surging cloud. In the deserts of the Southwest, The scene moves and changes like sand in the breeze, Etched by the hands of time into undulating rises and transcending plateaus. Here, the sun sets the sky burning with tints of orange and pink, Creating long shaded areas that dance across the desert floor. Furthermore, in the urban communities that ascent from the earth like landmarks to human resourcefulness, The lights of 1,000 windows sparkle like stars against the night sky. High rises go after the sky, Their glass exteriors mirroring the steadily changing horizon in a sparkling mosaic of steel and glass. In any case, maybe the genuine excellence of America lies in its scenes, However in the variety of its kin and societies. From the clamoring roads of New York City to the drowsy towns of the Profound South, Each side of this tremendous nation recounts an account of strength, imagination, and trust. So let us meander these scenes, both regular and man-made, With hearts open to the miracles that encompass us. For in each view, from the most noteworthy top to the humblest city intersection, There is magnificence to be found for those with eyes to see and hearts to feel.
By Nameless writer4 days ago in Poets
Vocal Weekly Leaderboard: 04/17/2024
Welcome to the weekly update of the Leaderboard! We're thrilled to showcase Vocal's most discussed stories, popular picks, and rising stars. Let's dive into this past week's standout contributors and their remarkable achievements.
By Vocal Team3 days ago in Resources
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