Stephen Carey

Rookie (November 13,1992 -)

Stephen Carey Poems

1. A Glass Of Water 5/27/2008
2. A Trio Of Songs 6/12/2008
3. Always Running 5/28/2008
4. Castle Of Broken Wings 5/28/2008
5. Catch A Firefly 6/12/2008
6. Conflicting Innards 10/18/2008
7. Dancing Dream 5/27/2008
8. For Ever 10/18/2008
9. Forgot 6/16/2008
10. Hiding Dream 6/13/2008
11. Hugging The Rock 10/18/2008
12. I Have To 6/13/2008
13. I Saw You Again 5/28/2008
14. I See Your Smile 6/12/2008
15. Imaginary Pinch 10/18/2008
16. Little Blue Boy 5/27/2008
17. Love Leaves 5/27/2008
18. Love Not Like A Rose 5/28/2008
19. Memory's Darker Horizon 5/27/2008
20. Missing You Part I: Nine And A Half Days 6/13/2008
21. Missing You Part Ii: Seventeen Days Past 6/13/2008
22. Missing You Part Iii: Eighteenth Day 6/13/2008
23. My Walk 5/27/2008
24. One Look 5/27/2008
25. Our Broken Hearts 5/28/2008
26. Sadder 5/28/2008
27. Sweet Sorrow 5/28/2008
28. The Blood Underneath My Fingernail 10/18/2008
29. The Color Of My Soul 5/28/2008
30. The End (Or Something Else) 5/27/2008
31. The Word In The Flames 5/27/2008
32. Thoughts In Sadness 5/28/2008
33. Turn It On 5/28/2008
34. Two Towers 5/28/2008
35. Wasted Chance 5/27/2008
36. What Is This 5/27/2008
37. Where The Dead Grass Grows 5/28/2008
38. While You Weren'T Looking 5/28/2008
39. Ycut I: You Can'T Understand... 10/18/2008
40. Ycut Ii: This... 10/18/2008
Best Poem of Stephen Carey

A Glass Of Water

A glass of water sat on a book of poems,
Hiding the moon,
Pointing out the angels,
Jutting out of the window.
An ominous feeling fills the air.
The moon being covered darkens the room.

The glass is removed from atop the book.
No ring of liquid is left on the book,
But the book is now very cold.
In the light of the new moon,
The golden letters, spelling the name of the long dead poet, gleam.
His ghost leaves the book and enters me.

I am cursed.
The light is burnt.
The door is broken.
I cannot stop writing.
I hide the moon again.
A ...

Read the full of A Glass Of Water

Little Blue Boy

I'm walking back from where I've been,
I hear that same old sound again.
I see him stare a'way up high,
I say, 'Little Blue Boy, why do you cry? '

He turns his head and looks at me.
I see his face from across the way.
Tears on a face like that shouldn't be.
His eyes shut tight, and I hear him say,

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