Biography of ally gunther
Just another high schooler trying to find a way to express themselves- hope you guys enjoy it!
ally gunther Poems
Black Raven, White Dove
When it's black, Like the raven, The well is full, but full of what? My sun is shining in a half pale burst,
And reaching a point, To walk back- My lips are on fire. A sweet breathing utensil;
An atom at birth, Unseen to some- It twirled and spun, Til' was left only none.
I don't recall the threshold- I don't I don't I don't, But maybe if I had, Maybe if I'd known you-
Such a pure painting, Was never truly white- Splotches of black and red
Dropping The Nest
Been a baby so long Rockabye, Lullaby, Singing me songs of bliss,
And the afternoon cacophony, The breeze through the trees- The whistling of birds fighting over their food And the cyclists spurs creaking under the weight-
Three cards in a pack, One too many to stack, A red queen- Red for now.
The surface I see- A blank faced ghost, So very confused and unsure, With a flicker of flame
A white sheet of paper blows off in the wind, And slips by a face as blank as the paper, Where has he gone? What happened to his life?
I'm eyeballing the wrong girl, The noise and the splashes, Of a local swimming pool, So many people swimming,
Days turn to nights, weeks to months and years. So easily time is flying past a blur in my memory. Seems only yesterday that we first met- and an hour ago you left. But if it were possible for my focus to shift- my hourglass to stop turning so that the world will stop spinning for a second- I would use my strength to forget you.
There’s nothing I can find, nothing to behold, A blank empty canvass when I think of you and it all, Sitting in my bedroom no one wonders why, a young teenage girl sits at her computer desk to cry.
Life, Love and Death; the three words that matter, Life gives to all, extends the invitation, It cares not what you look like and where you’ve come from, It just gives to you. It is your choice what you do with it, and only you will regret your decisions in the end, when life ends.
There’s nothing I can find, nothing to behold,
A blank empty canvass when I think of you and it all,
Sitting in my bedroom no one wonders why,
a young teenage girl sits at her computer desk to cry.
And even when I try painting pictures to fill it up,
All that I am left with is splotch after dirty splotch,
Insignificance being the only way to hold true,
I wash off the splotches with the water crossing my cheeks.