Rebecca Lyle Poems

Rain

Pitter patter, pitter patter,
Windshield wipers slapping,
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You're Not a Poet, Until- - -

You're not a poet until you make me cry
sometimes make me want to die.
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Dying

I was asked
Are you afraid to die?
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The Wind

It was always my foe
Never my friend
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The demon within

Inside the closet of the mind
is where he resides,
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Write or Wrong

Everyday, I heard he went to the same bar
Telling stories to his friends, stretching far
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The Clock

Its timing is exactly precise
It is not off by even a second
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The Breeze

You will never again gaze upon my face.
Betrayal and deceit is a bitter pill best swallowed whole,
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The young boy wakes from hunger pains;
knowing there is nothing for him to eat.
He drinks his fill of water, feeling defeat.
His single Mom works 12 hour days
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Kaleidoscope of Collaboration

There was a kaleidoscope of collaboration
going on in the sunkissed room
...