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    Stannie
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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. 

Stannie's poetry - 1. Please don't cry

This poem I once wrote. I totally forgot about it, but rediscovered it today. I decided to translate it to English. I don't master said language well, so don't blame me if there are any mistakes.

If you notice those, however, feel free to contact me at:
stanniestories@gmail.com

Please don’t cry. It’ll get better in time,

the pain will go.

Take the pills if it’s all too much, but only then.

Keep fighting,

my love,

because I know you can.

 

Oh, why you? There you are

with worried eyes radiating pain.

You look pale and I fear for you. How long will you have left,

my child.

 

There once was a time when all went well. I remember clearly.

We were happy, you and I.

And no, I don’t know when

it did start,

maybe it was there all along. And to

think I was with you every moment and still didn’t notice anything.

Or did I secretly know it,

but did I want to forget?

 

It’ll all get better, I thought.

 

I was naive.

 

The future always seems to be the solution

to the past.

But time only knows one direction and soon the future is the past.

Then the solution is

a part of the problem. Only then

the darkness is the solution,

and however it only hides,

it soothes the pain.

 

This pain rages on and you’re so powerless.

If only you were able to stand up

and look the evil in its eyes. If only

you were able to

use your talents.

 

And even if you’re not sick, the thoughts you

face,

are as serious.

Even if the pain of the memory is so bad

and even with those pills next to you,

the same pain

reminds you of life.

The memory is life.

The painkillers will take that away.

They stop the pain, that’s for sure,

but the pain won’t fully

disappear.

 

You only give the pain away to people closest to you.

 

I won’t tell you it’s gonna be alright,

my dear.

Because the future is

not the promise that’ll make the past disappear.

Copyright © 2016 Stannie; 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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Oh My!!! Its full of sad. I don't know why but I like the poems came out of sadness. They just flow with truth and be presented vividly. This one my friend, was one of them. I liked it. And I hope this is not the state you are in now. Hope is there. Believe it. No one knows better than me.

 

And flips and flaws will be there, but you have appreciate your work with heart. Well done my friend... :)

 

~Emi.

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