The hidden people

Whatever you do, don't forget to be yourself,

Because it would be very strange if you were someone else.

There are times when everyone must hide away what's real,

But if it's kept down for too long, you soon forget to feel,

As it builds thick walls of steel you try to hide behind,

Then it surrounds you and consumes you, and there's nothing left to find,

But the empty shell that was how people saw you,

Then there no escape because those people didn't know you.

Copyright September 7, 2015 by Christina Gatchel. This post may not be copied or reproduced without express permission from the author.

Memories lost

Moments, precious, sacred bits of time,

Dusty, tattered, now they're left behind,

Things we once held dear,

Nightmares we used to fear,

Lost, forgotten deep inside the corners of our mind.

Friends once close, now so very far away,

Dreams soon gone in remembrance of day,

No one cares and no one cries,

When a thought or idea dies,

 Bright colors of memories fading slowly away to gray.

Items once held close, now there's no thought you have to spare,

The little things you'd cry about, but now you barely care,

Growing up and standing bold,

Throwing down what you would hold,

What had once comforted you, now will no longer be there.

Copyright August 19, 2015, by Christina Gatchel. This post may not be copied or reproduced without express permission from the author.

My Father

Since today is my father's birthday, I decided that I should write him a poem. This is his poem, and I am sharing it with you.

The one that tickles you while you’re asleep,

The one you tell your promises you both intend to keep.

The one who has an extensive collection of ties he never wears,

The one who holds you tight at random moments ‘cause he cares.

The one who has a belly laugh that echoes all around,

The one who snores at night, shaking the windows with the sound.

The one who works real hard each day so we can have some money,

The only one who ever dares to call our Mother ‘honey’.

The one with arms so open wide, the perfect length for hugs,

The one who has several sizes of coffee mugs.

The one who plays with you, and still’s a good sport when he loses,

The one who wiggles his socked foot from open-toed shoeses.

The one who’s up all day and night doing the oddest things,

The one who doesn’t care how off tune he is, he still sings.

The one who is an example of the father up above,

Who showers all his daughters with a special kind of love.

Copyright July 3, 2015, by Christina Gatchel (otherwise known as Chris-the-awesome). This post may not be copied or reproduced without express permission from the author.

The end of the world

When all is lost and gone away,

And no more life to see,

No branches swaying in the wind,

No where for one to be.

No golden sun or sunset red,

No promises for time to keep,

For Earth has rest her tired head,

And fallen in eternal sleep.

An empty world to waste away,

No relief for her barren ground,

No end to night with dawn of day,

a lonely earth without a sound.

When all is lost and gone away,

And mother earth has rest her head,

The world is cold and dark and still,

And everything is old and dead.

Copyright March 13, 2015 by Christina Gatchel. This post may not be copied or reproduced without express permission from the author.

The invisible world

The world encased inside your brain

Can always come to be,

But only for your own eyes,

Only for you to see.

The world where everything is gold,

The limit is the sky,

No one is wrinkled, fat, or old,

And no one ever dies.

Or everything is dark bare,

And time is very slow,

The residents are simply there,

With nowhere else to go.

The world that's there is just for you,

But sometimes hard to find.

Each time you look, it seems brand-new,

But just inside your mind.

Copyright February 17,  2015 by Christina Gatchel. This post may not be copied or reproduced without express permission from the author.

Ideas of you

There are some who wish you well

And some who wish you dead.

Some who wish you stood and fought,

Some who wish you fled.

Some who place you higher up,

Some who place you low,

Some who wonder who you are,

Some already know.

People all around your life,

Who have their ideas of you,

A rebel, fighter, whiner, crier,

A person with nothing to do.

There are some who wish you life,

And some who wish you hate,

It all depends on the idea of you

That you inspired them to create.

Copyright January 20, 2015. This post may not be copied or reproduced with out express permission from the author.

The trees

The trees that stand so tall and proud,

With long, firm roots against the ground,

Might yearn for long lost sapling years,

And sap runs down their trunk like tears.

They wish to touch the fertile earth,

That mothered them ever since birth,

And live to see their seeds fall,

To become more trees, just as tall.

Copyright January 12, 2015 by Christina Gatchel. This post may not be copied or reproduced without express permission from the author.

Scattered thoughts: Cold

Cold is when the sky is covered in a thick blanket of gray.
Cold is when the air is clear and crisp.
Cold is when you don't dare go out without shoes because your feet will freeze from the wetness and you could probably get hypothermia or something and you stay inside posting about cold instead of actually experiencing it because you'd rather not experience it.
Cold can be fun, like when it snows.
Cold can also be annoying when you want to go out and do something but it's so cold your face gets numb.
Sometimes it feels that the cold is mean when you want to do something and it's suddenly twenty - eight degrees.
Cold is cold.
Some people are used to temperatures around negative something.
I'm not.
I like the cold, but it has its disadvantages.
Maybe inside is better.
Until it turns summer and I'll probably wish it was winter.

Copyright January 2, 2015. This post may not be copied or reproduced without express permission from the author. (Though I can't imagine why you would try.)