Born Cindy Wright, but adopted elsewhere, I grew up in a little backwoods town around farmlife. Writing was always an escape for me as a lonely teenage girl that believed in love at first sight and all the other romantic aspects of life. I keep my poems simple, carefree and young at heart for a reason; I want the reader to understand and feel them no matter what age the reader is. more »
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Cindy Wright Poems
Do you miss me? Miss seeing me? Miss kissing me, holding me? Do you? Do you ache inside? Do you wish we didn't have to hide? Do you cry at night, Do you even know how to cry?
Loves passion embers on as a hot hot coal, burning still, burning slow waiting to ignite once more with the strength of an open fire. Slowly fading down to the warmth within, the raging fire for you awaits. My love is a back-draft waiting in the dark
Keeper of My Soul
Love me hard Love me deep, it's my soul that you keep. Take my hand Take my life,
A Player Still
Dead to all feelings he admires his rose of all days She sits in wonder of his wasted heart and adverse ways. Adverse to loving or allowing to be loved his ways killing him slowly from within
Ghost Of The Past
Looking back on days gone by, she sees a ghost that lost his wings to fly. Over her shoulder she silently peeks being caught looking once again by her guy.
Oh little birdie what do you see? Do you sit and wonder the same as me? With your eyes you show me the way, as you fly over the ones that go astray.
Poetry without rhymes is something I forgot It can be as easy as tying a rope in a knot. Though sometimes words need not sound the same unfortunately somehow I get lost in this game.
It's just me, I stand alone here admiring thee, Admiring the beauty of mother natures flower off a tree. So delicate and fair
He says he chooses to remain alone but he sits and stares from his throne. Staring at natures wonders that run around in front of his eyes.
She gripped her ripped heart with all her might as it has been torn since letting go of his light. Looking away in sadness, though strange acceptance of her love slipping away. She realizes that he was but a ghost
I see you and wish to fly by your side, but am forever chained tightly down. Sitting here longing to be free, these chains keep a hungry grip of me.
Tossed away, broken inside. I lay crying, inside dying Heart that once was
Nights spent alone seem so endless, days go by so slow. The quietness of the phone pure and agonizing torture to the hungry soul.
So many questions, so many looks. One look, one touch one song, once again. One question, how do you feel?
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
Do you miss me? Miss seeing me? Miss kissing me, holding me? Do you?
Do you ache inside? Do you wish we didn't have to hide?
Do you cry at night,
Do you even know how to cry?
Can't you swallow that pride?
Do you love me? (good)
Do you yearn for my hug as I do yours?
Do you know how much I love you?
No you don't, but I do.
Do you think about me at all? Do you still want to try?
Do you care? Really care? Try to understand my side.
Do you miss me? Miss seeing me? Kissing me; holding me; talking to me?
Do you? ? ? ? ? ?