423. Hollow

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The floorboards creak…

Titter-totter. Titter-totter.

This place is home,

So what’s the matter?

What’s the matter?

Doors move and squeak…

Shriek-shriek. Shriek-shriek.

This place is home,

So why sneak?

Creak-Creak.

The windows jolt.

Rattle-clatter. Rattle-clatter.

This place is home,

So where’s the chatter?

What’s the matter?

The stairs settle…

Whisper-whisper. Whisper-whisper.

No one is home,

But they were…

They were……………

K. Aldaya, 1/25/18

Picture: https://pixabay.com/en/dark-door-door-handle-light-1852985/

421. Misunderstood

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You’ll never understand. I know.

It’s just the way it is.

You’ll never understand how I feel,

And I’m glad. It is what it is.

You’ll never understand why I,

Am the way I am.

You’ll always see me as less than you;

And it’s okay. I am what I am.

You’ll never understand, yet still,

I wish you’d at least try;

Though I don’t blame you for not wanting to,

Life is short and too soon we die.

You’ll never understand, my dear,

How much I wish to be…

Free from the blueprints of memory.

Wave goodbye. What will be, will be.

K. Aldaya, 1/4/18

Picture: By: Zhu Liang on Unsplash; https://unsplash.com/photos/eoy0fuzH5ss

420. Mirror

Fingers pressed,

Firm and still,

Awaiting motion,…

From the brain wand’ring at will,

Beyond all tactile notion.

Eyes adrift,

Scan and see,

Sights too far from word;

Through glass they hide from mem’ry,

In corners undiscovered.

Tiptoeing.

Wandering.

Matter falls away.

In the mirror unblinking,

She silently floats away.

K. Aldaya, 12/7/17

Picture: Original Source Unknown; https://wallpaperscraft.com/download/girl_mirror_reflection_opinion_87457/1920×1080#

419. What Do You Call It?

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What do you call it when someone’s judged by their skin?

When they’re told, “You’re a certain way and don’t fit in”.

What do you call it when they’re picked on for their shade?

When they’re told they are wrong, just for how they were made?

What do you call it when they’re blamed for who they are?

“Your skin is the reason why you deserve a scar”.

What do you call it when they’re told: “Change your color!”.

Told: “It isn’t right” or “You should have another”?

I’ll tell you what it is called…It’s called racism, right?

Though I wonder what you’d say if I told you they were “white”.

K. Aldaya, 11/29/17

Picture: By: Jon Tyson on Unsplash; https://unsplash.com/photos/BQoNx5G6mEI

418. Mortal Paths

Another night ‘lone I lie,

And drift the vast path of thought.

Oh, how many years wasted?

Wandering endlessly…

Though, always onward led?

Led unto my own demise;

A maze of my own making.

What a waste of life…of time:

So precious…so finite…

Squandered in verse and rhyme.

I am nothing. Never was.

Mortality haunts my brain.

For I know not where to start,

Nor how to find the worth,

In the pleadings of heart.

Will anyone remember?

Or will everyone forget?

This mortal realm where I walked,…

On paths without ending;

Where all alone I talked…

To you.

“Hello”………………………………………………………….”Goodbye”.

K. Aldaya, 11/24/17

Picture: https://www.shutterstock.com/video/clip-9726293-stock-footage-handwriting-a-letter-by-candle-light.html