Sandra Osborne

War. And war some more.
War. And war some more.
No one knows,
What it's for,
...

It's funny how
You make me cry,
Make me feel
Like I'm a lie.
...

I will tell you now of a life of pain
An abused little child, thrown away. I’d
Explain all the hate, and laughter insane,
But you’d never believe a world would try,
...

Free.
Waves on an endless ocean,
Swelling and changing
Changing and flowing,
...

Woke up this morning, with some more new pains
Getting old really sucks; I hurt when it rains.
You won’t hear me say, “Wow, THAT pain is gone! ”
But always just, “Hey, why does THAT now hurt? ”
...

Not so different,
But the resentments
Are oh so real,
Hatred at the past,
...

So many
Different dreary worlds,
That it’s hard to make a choice,
Hard to choose at all,
...

Again
I am here
among these lonely
tides of faith
...

You may not even know me,
Or know what I mean,
Understand my world,
Or hear me when I scream.
...

Funny, I’ve been writing
For a very long time.
I’ve written about love
I’ve written about hate
...

So go ahead rate me
With ones, twos or threes
...

This is a really bad poem, gonna get a “one”.
No, this is a really bad poem, a really, really, really
Bad poem. Hell I just threw up while writing it.
This is so bad. And I mean really, really, really bad.
...

There are things
I will never understand.
The pain, the hate that
exists within my life.
...

White ones, black ones,
Red ones too,
Brown ones, spotted ones,
One is Blue.
...

I wish we weren’t at war, I wish
there wasn’t any hunger, I wish every
child was loved, I wish there was no pollution,
I wish we had peace, I wish God talked more,
...

The flame crackles,
Spitting shinning sparks
And ashes and fire
Into the warming air.
...

A mouse
is nothing but
a small
animal of the world.
...

Looks like I'm stuck
with what’s called by some,
my own, poetic “voice”.
But I’d love to write
...

Yes it’s hard
To be strong,
Everyday
All day long.
...

Pain in my feet
With pincushion fingers.
Blurred double vision,
Exhaustion that lingers.
...