Paul Day

Paul Day Poems

There is always work to be done.
Real work, busy work, work I make for myself.
But it doesn’t need doing right away.

Like a fly I flew into the trap,
Though I swore I never would.

Like a fly I took a path,

Right now, the wind blows through your branches
And you moan.
Your branches are bare and have lost color
For another winter.

Mud caked a little boy’s bruised skin
And filth dripped off of him.
His mother sighed and shook her head
When he first appeared in her sight.

Butterfly, you graced my eyes for just a short while.
Yet you remain so vividly and beautifully implanted.
And upon your memory I smile.
You’ve left an impression that will remain so sacred.

You put yourself in the center of it all.
You believe everyone’s either out to hurt or help you.
It’s going to be your inevitable downfall.
You’re shut down to any other point of view.

I came across a tree in the wood the other day.
It was old and had long since rotted away.
The trees around it were thriving,
And this one lacked any magnificence.

Why don’t we all get along?
It’s not a whine
Or a complaint.
It’s a valid question.

Since I’ve met you, I’ve been in love.
Your soft face, piercing eyes, beautiful hair…
Everything about you is so perfect.
Your voice, your sound, your laugh so fair…

Picture this:

Head, arms, legs flailing frantically beyond control.

Dear Pessimist,
You hate this life.
You hate this world.
You hate these people.

Oh river,
Where do you flow to?

Oh river,

A young boy sprinted among the trees
Until he came to a wide river bank.
His reflection glistened back at him.
He splashed and the water sparkled.

I am what I am because of what I’ve done,
And I’ve done what I’ve done because of what I’ve been.

Sure, there are some things I wish I hadn’t done,

I took a motorboat across a lake,
And got from end to end real fast.
The wind whipped across my face.
I occasionally got splashed.

I like you very much.
But each day I tell you I love you,
And it’s a lie.
There is only one I truly love,

There was no need to say what you said to me today.
It wasn't a big deal,
And I won't hold it against you.
But it's an impression you've left of yourself.

Paul Day Biography

Hello! I'm a teenager and I've written my entire life. Most of the time, I work on short stories or novels and only recently started checking out poetry. This means that my poems may be about all sorts of different topics. I love to talk and I will gladly comment or read your poems. Just get in touch! **Paul Day is a pen name.)

The Best Poem Of Paul Day

Work That Needs Doing… Later.

There is always work to be done.
Real work, busy work, work I make for myself.
But it doesn’t need doing right away.
And so I procrastinate.
It will bring stress later on
When it is multiplied.
But I’m okay with that.
Now, the real problem is
That I may take time now to relax and enjoy life,
But the thought of work still lingers
To trouble my mind
And prohibit relaxation.
And still I procrastinate.

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