Dancing Alone

The music has started,

The dance floor is ready,

The people have partners,

But not me.

Some people are dancing,

The others are talking,

I want to dance,

But no one asks me.

Not brave enough to ask,

Not smart enough to see,

That there are other people

Waiting for partners, just like me.

I simply step out on the floor,

And look around at faces,

The smiling, happy people seem

To come from foreign places,

And so, my eyes trained on my feet,

I start to dance along,

But with no partner, only me,

In time to every song.

I must have looked so sad,

Alone, yet dancing all the same,

Weighed down  by weary feet,

Head bowed as though it rained.

Yet I was happy while I danced,

For I could dream a partner was there,

Someone who's always by your side,

In every place, no matter where.

Your partner may not be alive,

Unless you make them so,

It's a sense that only very few

Will ever get to know.

Copyright November 13, 2014 by Christina Gatchel. This post may not be copied or reproduced without express permission from the author.

The poem with a title that is completely pointless other than to fail at informing you the subject of the poem and to bore you before you even get to reading the poem which has no purpose other than to entertain and possibly inform or enlighten you or make you curl into a ball and cry. Simplified, a poem on poems.

What is the purpose of poems?

What makes the words poetry?

Is there something hidden between the lines

That only the crazy deep thinking nerds can see?

Some poems don't rhyme,

So rhyming's not the key,

Is it that poems must always contain

A secret, personal meaning?

What makes a poem a poem,

Is there a secret that makes it so?

If I knew it, I would tell you,

But honestly, I don't know.

Copyright November 10, 2014 by Christina Gatchel. This post may not be copied or reproduced without express permission from the author.

If mercy was a legend

If mercy was a legend,

If no one cared for the poor,

Mistakes were not forgiven,

Leaving us always at war,

If grace was the unthinkable,

If love was barely seen,

If good did not exist,

What sort of persons would we be?

The lonely would stay alone,

The sad could only cry,

The homeless would never have a home,

The rejects would simply die.

The girls who search for their Prince Charming

Would search but would not find,

For happiness was drained away,

And good things left behind.

If no one cared for the unlucky,

If no one chose to say,

"I'll stand up for the weak and poor,

I'll be with them all the way."

The ones that fell would never find,

A hand to help them rise,

For all the rich would never care,

And the rejects would simply die.

Copyright November 9, 2014 by Christina Gatchel. This post may not be copied or reproduced without express permission from the author.