Biography of catherine moll
I've enjoyed writing for quite some time.I'm 45, I have no children.(not by choice) But that's okay.I just enjoy life at this moment
catherine moll Poems
A Friend Named Cathy
I had this friend by the name of Cathy, We met in a really strange way. We both were abused by a man we both knew, and eventually he had his day. Cathy had started to enjoy her life, a mother of two and a soon to be wife. Then tragedy struck, she was taken from us, one of a few I could actually trust.
The Love You Show
A touch from you is like a touch from a feather Though your hands are strong and rough A kiss from you is like a soft gentle whisper Though your lips are'nt moist enough
My boyfriend told me, 'You need to quit smokin.' I'm tired of listening as you are chokin That crap is no good for you, look what it's done to your Mom
Dork On Wheels(For Sister Charlotte)
Ya know that I love ya and I think you're swell But there's something you must here, something I must tell I hope you're not offened when I say You don't strike me as a Biker Bitch but that's ok
So I finally died, let me rest in peace I kicked the bucket, I am now deceased No longer will I feel the pain and sorrow That plaques our lives come tomorrow
I remember the times at Sailsbury Beach All that we wanted was within our reach The smells of the ocean, the sounds from the birds The laughter from families all could be heard
I stare in the mirror hoping to see, a smile on my face, no reflection of me. All there is is a dull piece of glass, nobody there, I've already passed Is this an ellusion, am I having a dream? There's nobody there, there is no more me. People have taken my mind and my soul, leaving me nothing, no longer a whole
What Do You See?
What do you see when you look at me when we're standing face to face? Do even see me standing here, are you in another place? What do you see when you look at me when I'm sitting by your side? Do you even see me sitting here, do I ever cross your mind?
I stare in the mirror hoping to see, a smile on my face, no reflection of me.
All there is is a dull piece of glass, nobody there, I've already passed
Is this an ellusion, am I having a dream? There's nobody there, there is no more me.
People have taken my mind and my soul, leaving me nothing, no longer a whole
How do I stop this from going too far? From feeling the rage, from permanent scar?
There's not much left for me to do but express, 'Thank god, Thank God I'm not you!
Who could all