Poems

There are a collection of poems and lyrics that I have written.

(This poem won me as of right now a semi-finalist in a poety contest, the winners have not been picked yet. I have a chance to win)

The Teenage Way

you never would have expect it
until its too late
A young adult, so full of fear, so full of hate.

All his life, he lied, he tried to hide
until he died.
There`s a fine line,
he was shoved across it
and soon after that, he lost it.

He was down, he was depressed, he thought of it often,
until he snapped,
his dead heart in his mothers lap.

To see a society where they want out so bad,
They could just kill themselves, who cares who`s sad.

I understand though, I was once him,
I thought my light shone so dim.

Its always quiet before the storm,
in his house, so safe, so warm.

Silent waters run the deepest
this hill he failed to clime, they were the steepest.

He seemed fine, to the untrained eye.
Perhaps if the eye were trained,
he wouldn't die.

Lisa Ryan
19.04.04

Closer to home

Why?.. Why did you have to die?
Why did I have to say goodbye?
To you, to me, to everything thats real,
to everything I used to feel,
will I ever heal?

It just hits so much closer to home.
Im sitting here all alone now.
Im trying to be strong
Iv been trying all along.
Until I break,
break down and cry
cry...cry until I die.

Why?... why do we do this,
to you, to me,
why cant it be like it used to be?

Go to school without fear,
everyones voices I could hear,
but now its just you,
I have no were to go to.
Im lost.
Im wondering,
Im always pondering....
Why it has to hit so much closer to home,
to make it real.
Why do I have to feel?
This shouldnt be real!

Why cant we just go back?

Lisa Ryan
22.04.04

A real world?

Iv Cried all I can cry.
Iv tried all I can try.
Iv watched as all these people die.
Iv thought of everyone but me,
and wished for a world that will never be!

But now, Im done with all my crying.
My crying, my trying.
Im done with all this dying that encircles me!
It fills me. It pushes me, kills me.
Blinds me so I cannot see.

Lisa Ryan
22.04.04

The face at the door

This rage cuts me.
It fills me.
It bottles up in me.
Its a trap.
The rasps on the door.
They go tap tap tap.
Death is the face at the door,
as the lifeless body falls to the floor.

Lisa Ryan
22.04.04

Thinkning of you
Whit crisp walls, but all the bloods been splattered.
Our memory of you, has been forever shattered.

How could you do yourself so much harm,
in your parents room, so cosy, so warm?

You gave us such a tragic ending,
My thoughts of you will need some mending

Lisa Ryan
23.04.04

The Moth

Like a moth to the flame.
If you hadnt done it, would anyone know your name?
Why did you do it, do we have ourselves to blame?

Your gone, I didnt feel your pain,
but still my sadness remains.

I cant help but be glad I didnt know you better.
If I had, would you have left a letter?

Like a moth to a flame.
I still know your name.

But now, you are a beautiful butterfly.
You grow wings when you die.

Not of an angel, there not real.
Ones of someone who was, someone who could feel.

Lisa Ryan
24.04.04