Heart Failure

All my plans haven’t gone away
They’ve really just been delayed

People they fret I can’t explain
They all just sort of strayed

It’s not my style to beg or plead
I sometimes require aid

They all want something from me
I have nothing for trade

Many years spent on this journey
Every direction came a grenade

You tell a different story
That isn’t the life that you portrayed

Why do you get all the glory
While I’m prisoner in this stockade

No need for you to hurry
My heart rotted and decayed

© Delia Ross. 2019

If These Were Last Moments

I don’t know if this will get through to you
I don’t know that I can quilt the right words
If these were last moments I’d run out of fuel
Now’s a good time to listen while still

Surrounded by people, unsound energies accrue
Negative actions come at you in herds
They’ll tell you a diamond doesn’t start out a jewel
Poisoned so slowly you never feel ill

Whispers and laughters “we know you’ll pull through”
On and on it’s always pain you move towards
I guess I’d want you to know you are cruel
For inviting me to climb then kicking me downhill

© Delia Ross. 2019

These Lessons Again And Again These Lessons

It’s going to keep coming around and around it keeps going
Over and over these lessons harden and are gaining speed and growing
You’d think by now we’d get it, but these lessons keep on flowing

It’s different now but maybe it would have been better never knowing
Nothing will ever hide these wrinkles on my forehead from showing
There might have been a warning when he heard the bird crowing
Damn, you see, it’s just another universal omen
But is he aware that time for me is gradually slowing

These lessons, these lessons keep on coming
These lessons, these lessons keep on coming

© Delia Ross. 2019

DETAINED

OLD PHOTO, NEW POEM!

‘DETAINED’ by @poeeternal

He makes me want to sin
But it’d be heaven I contend
The way his words move under my skin
I’d fall for him again and again
I once made my amend
While feeling silence closing in
If only there were more moments to spend
Would he care the places I’ve been?

His silence tortures me
From a bird to a parolee
His energy is beastly
I’d stay in jail, be his detainee
Satisfaction is guaranteed
But there are obstacles to oversee
Invitations with no addressee
His heart is like an Oak tree

© Delia Ross. 2019