My Poems

[Miraculous:ChatNoir]

The Traveler's Trial

In a distant town by the rolling sea,
A traveler wandered, wild and free.
With weathered boots and a heart so kind,
He sought new roads, leaving none behind.

But one dark night beneath a moon so pale,
A scream was heard, a chilling wail.
The town awoke to find a dreadful sight
A lifeless body, lost to the night.

The whispers spread like wildfire’s flame,
And soon the traveler bore the blame.
"He was seen alone, he must be the one!"
The townsfolk shouted, “The deed is done.”

With shackled wrists and a heavy heart,
He pleaded his case but was torn apart.
"Not I," he said, "I’ve done no wrong!"
Yet judgment came swift, the night was long.

But just as dawn began to break,
A witness stepped forth for truth’s own sake.
"New evidence found, a shadowed clue
The real culprit stands among you!"



The case unraveled, a twist revealed,
The traveler’s innocence was now unsealed.
The town, ashamed, hung their heads low,
For they had judged before they'd known.

The traveler left, his name restored,
But taught a lesson with no reward:
"Before you judge, before you blame,
Seek the truth, for it speaks no shame."

For in haste, they nearly lost their way
Let justice come slow, let patience stay.

[Miraculous:ChatNoir]

The Pocket Watch

Ticking softly, brass and gold,
A pocket watch, both bright and old.
It measures hours we cannot keep,
Like borrowed dreams in fleeting sleep.

Each second swings, each minute fades,
Through misty nights and sunlit glades.
It spins in circles, yet goes straight
A march towards an unknown fate.

How many hours have slipped through?
In idle hands, in skies of blue?
We dwell on yesterdays, lost sighs,
While today, unnoticed, flies.

But in its click, there’s more to learn,
That time once spent will not return.
Though regret may hold its sting,
The clock, unbroken, still will sing.

For wasted time, though bittersweet,
Can teach the heart to rise, to meet
The moments left, so pure, so wide
To live before the hands collide.

[Miraculous:ChatNoir]

The Unburied Truth

Whispers swirled like shadowed mist,
A labyrinth spun with a silver twist.
Words so sweet, yet laced with dread,
A tangled web where trust lay dead.
I walked among their crafted tales,
A ship adrift with tattered sails.
Each promise glowed, a gilded hue,
Yet crumbled soft when pushed for true.
Beneath the charm, a restless stir,
A graveyard hid where secrets blur.
The skeletons danced, unseen, confined,
Until time’s hand began to unwind.
The clock struck loud; the veil was torn,
Revealing truths long left forlorn.
Their masks fell hard, their mirrors cracked,
A storm of lies now faced with fact.
Buried bones unearthed by light,
Shivered bare in the sharp moon’s sight.
No place to hide, no room to flee,
Their fortress crumbled—no mystery.
The air grew still, the echoes waned,
Yet scars remained where trust was stained.
For lies may flourish, but never thrive;
The truth will rise and stay alive.
So I stood tall, amidst their shame,
Unbound by grief, untouched by blame.
For in their ruins, I found release,
An end to lies, and my own peace.

[Miraculous:ChatNoir]

The Fracture Line

It began with a whisper,
A shift beneath the surface,
A crack too fine for the eye to see.
But I felt it,
A tremor in the fabric of us,
A tension pulling the threads apart.
I tried to mend it,
Pressed my hands against the breaking,
Hoping to hold what we had together.
But the harder I pressed,
The wider the fracture grew,
Until it split me in two.
Your voice was the chisel,
Your silence the hammer,
And every unspoken truth
Drove the line deeper.
Now I stand on one side,
You on the other,
A canyon between us carved in pain.
And though I long to leap,
To bridge the divide,
I know I cannot cross what’s already broken.
So I turn away,
Carrying the weight of the fracture within me,
A scar etched deep into the foundation of my heart.

[Miraculous:ChatNoir]

I entered this poem into the county fair and got 1st Place.

Prairie Sunset

In the vast expanse where the prairie lies low,
Beneath a sky with a sunset’s Glow,
A cowboy rides with his hat pulled low,
Through the dust and the sagebrush row.

His spurs they jingle with a steady beat,
As he guides his horse with gentle feet,
With a lasso at his side and the sun's fierce heat,
In the heart of the land where the skies and earth meet.

The cattle call in the twilight hour,
As the cowboy hums by the desert flower,
His soul feels free, not a trace of dour,
In the wide open land, his spirit's tower.

The moon rises high, a silver crown,
As the stars in the night start to settle down,
By the campfire's glow on this rugged ground,
The cowboy's song is a sweet, lonesome sound.

With stories of old and dreams untold,
He warms his heart against the cold,
A life so simple, yet rich in gold,
In the cowboy's world, timeless and bold.