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    Wayne Gray
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  • 119 Words
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  • 22 Comments
Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Wayne's Poems - 1. Chapter 1 - Broken in the Dark

Looking in at broken parts,
To mend is all he needs,
Scattered pieces strewn about,
Like windblown tumbling seeds.

Fractures there, he sees them march,
Helpless to stop their spread,
"Open up!" he screams in vain,
Words pound upon your head.

"What can I do to help you?"
His voice stirs something there,
Wounded eyes take in your knight,
He holds you with his stare.

"Broken love is all I have,
I don't deserve you here."
You try to roll away, apart,
To free him from your fear.

"You think I don't know your dark?
You think that I don't see?"
Saddened smile, gentle hand,
"I'm here to set you free.
The pain, give it to me."

Copyright © 2019 Wayne Gray; All Rights Reserved.
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Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

Just now, MichaelS36 said:

This is wonderful and very relatable.

I'm glad you like it, Mike.  Thank you for the nice words.

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2 hours ago, Thorn Wilde said:

Beautiful, Wayne. Don't say you're not a poet. You are.

I’m still a dabbler compared to some.  But, I do try, so thanks.  😘

Edited by Wayne Gray
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Just now, Mikiesboy said:

Ha.. moss does not grow under your feet ... i'm glad you posted it .. it deserves to be here.  not everyone writes poetry like i do ... non-stop ... they write it when the time is right and there is nothing wrong with that ... or with this.

Well, thanks for pushing me to post it, tim.

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20 minutes ago, Wayne Gray said:

hammering on a keyboard, trying to get that splinter in the mind out.

 

Thanks.  🙂

Be nice to your keyboard! It is your friend, and new ones are expensive.

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57 minutes ago, Wayne Gray said:

 trying to get that splinter in the mind out.  

I love this phrase.

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3 hours ago, FanLit said:

I love this phrase.

That's how it feels to me when something needs out.  It turns over and over, twists, claws, until I set it free.  That's how it feels.

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Wonderful poem, Wayne. Rich with emotion, and I can so relate to the sentiment. That moment when you don't want to burden another with your troubles, but that person insists that you let go - and so you do. 

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8 minutes ago, MacGreg said:

Wonderful poem, Wayne. Rich with emotion, and I can so relate to the sentiment. That moment when you don't want to burden another with your troubles, but that person insists that you let go - and so you do. 

Thanks, Mac.

 

I'm both thankful and a little saddened that this resonates with so many.  I wish there wasn't so much pain in the world, but thankful love allows us to shoulder it.

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My mum has always been that person for me who can see me through all my darkness. I just have to wave my arm around even if I can't see a thing 'cause I know for a fact that my hand will surely touch her gentle fingertips; her arm is always there reaching out for me.

Thank you @Wayne Gray for sharing this beautiful poem. It touched me somewhere deep inside.

Edited by Joie J.
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11 hours ago, Joie J. said:

My mum has always been that person for me who can see me through all my darkness. I just have to wave my arm around even if I can't see a thing 'cause I know for a fact that my hand will surely touch her gentle fingertips; her arm is always there reaching out for me.

Thank you @Wayne Gray for sharing this beautiful poem. It touched me somewhere deep inside.

Thanks for the nice comments, Joie J.

My poems are sometimes serious or dark, then some are silly or upbeat. There are poems about love, weasels, depression, and more. I hope you keep reading and find others that speak to you as well. 🙂

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4 hours ago, Wayne Gray said:

Thanks for the nice comments, Joie J.

My poems are sometimes serious or dark, then some are silly or upbeat. There are poems about love, weasels, depression, and more. I hope you keep reading and find others that speak to you as well. 🙂

I'm sure I'm gonna love this journey. Looking forward to read the silly, upbeat ones; love and depressions too.

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