(10) Ten Years

For so long… he wanted me.
For so long… he watched.
For so long… he followed.
And never once got lost.
Every breath I took,
He knew how deep I inhaled.
Every wink I made,
He knew the length in detail.
So many times… he dreamt of me.
So many times… he called.
But never once left his name,
Or even spoke after all.
Instead he waited for a night,
And followed me all the way home.
He let me go on in
To make sure that I was alone.
And instead of making me comfortable,
He only brought me tears.
And for what he had taken from me,
He only got 10 years.

11-29-1990 Thursday
Written by Gail Brookshire
God is my hero

Years of Ploy

Once upon a time
In a childhood land,
I chose my knight in armor
In a wonderful man.
I anxiously prayed for time
To hurry to the age
Where I could accept his ring
To show we were engaged.
Oh how I wanted so
To see his loving smile,
As he held his hand out to me
At the other end of the aisle.
Our honeymoon would be divine.
We would have the best.
I never knew on our honeymoon,
He would lay to rest.
So as I tell my fairy tale
To all maidens growing,
Patiently enjoy your youth,
For the future is unknowing.

10-2-1990 Tuesday
Written by Gail Brookshire

Suddenly, So Incomplete

Suddenly, I feel a loss.
A loss of something special.
Someone special.
Someone who use to live and laugh,
Laugh and love.
Someone who use to believe in wishes
And dreams coming true.
Prayers being answered.
Letters being sentimental.
Hope being valuable.
Someone who use to spend day and night
Praying and wishing that
Their dreams would come true
And hoped the letters would
Be the key to their romance.
Someone that I miss so very much
And wish that I could know again.
Someone whom I suddenly want to
Rescue from dying.
Dying inside.
I want to believe in her again.
In love.
But suddenly, I feel so incomplete.

10-1-1990 Monday
Written by Gail Brookshire
PS. God is my hero! He makes me complete! ❤

Cemetery of Love

Graveyards are a memory
For those who know of love.
And every tombstone in the yard,
Is a sign of giving up.
Every piece of grass that grows
Over a fresh dug grave
Is a sign of peace and serenity
For one who was so brave.
And all the flowers blooming in spring
And dying in late night fall
Are reminders of a soul at rest
Who gave their heart to all.
So why is it I turn away
As if it’s bad to see?
For this is where I long to lay,
Yet am too afraid to be.

9-25-1990 Tuesday
Written by Gail Brookshire
PS. I miss you! I love you! Still!!
PSS… God is my hero.
I am so thankful for God allowing me things to be so different now.

Surviving the Knife

Knives,
The wound invention.
Scarred,
There’s no prevention.
Memories,
Unnecessary reminders.
Tragedies,
The unbreakable binders.
Blood,
The tears of a heart.
Sweat,
From fighting so hard.
Screams,
The voice of the weak,
Tears,
A soul with a leak.
Aching,
A natural way of life.
Surviving,
By holding the knife.

9-16-1990 Sunday
Written by Gail Brookshire
God is my hero

REALITY

Once in a century of life,
Fair maidens would always dance.
They fell in love with Romeos
And dreamed of sweet romance.
Later on in eras passed,
The world would come to change.
Young girls would give birth to heirs
Of someone lost and deranged.
And those who took the midnight strolls,
As fair maidens of long ago,
Would later on become the ones
To surrender like we’ll never know.
And all the children left to learn,
As they fight their way through life,
Will only know the wickedness
That seeps from the edge of the knife.

9-16-1990 Sunday
Written by Gail Brookshire
God is my hero.

God’s Goodbye Angel

Farewell our good-bye angel.
We’ll miss you every day.
It’s sad to see you leave us.
But you were called away.
The need you in another place
Healing broken hearts.
You’ve mended ours many times
From many shattered parts.
Somewhere in this weary world
A soul is crying out.
They are in need of deep concern,
And assurance from their doubts.
Just be sure to save a little care
For those you leave behind.
And know that God’s goodbye angel
Is always on our mind.

8-25-1990
Written By Gail Brookshire
Inspiration: For Mrs. Shirley Ann Chamberlain
A wonderful teacher and friend

LEAKING WITHIN

Only through the page I write
Can I be expressed.
I’ve tried to love the others right,
But did not give my best.
I’ve tried to stop them walking away,
But somehow pushed them out.
I’d try to stop the memories,
But my heart would be in drought.
It’s just another way for life
To show us that we’re weak,
That though we swear we may be strong,
We always have a leak.
Understand my little cry,
Through which I cannot voice.
I’d try to walk away in vain,
But do not have a choice.

8-5-1990 Monday
Written by Gail Brookshire

Manipulation

Sacred words,
Secret souls,
Tragedies of pain.

Complications,
More frustrations,
Soon to be insane.

Miraculous,
Spontaneous,
So many characteristics.

Deviation,
Meditation,
How do we seem to miss it?

6-4-1990 Monday
Written by Gail Brookshire
PS. Do you get it? No? Good! That’s the objective!

SOULLESS

Deceased…
The absence of a soul.
Buried…
Placed within a hole.
Dead…
Without breath of life within.
Killed…
The victim to one’s sin.
Gone forever…
Impossible to bring them back.
So sad…
The laughter you come to lack.
Irreplaceable…
The one you miss so much.
The body…
Of one you truly loved.

4-4-1990 Wednesday
Written by Gail Brookshire

A Child Dies

A child dies.
What could come to mind to find it was wrong?
Only we can accept the responsibility for this angel of youth.
How can we face ourselves again?
We shouldn’t be able to.
A child lies breathless… lifeless… laughless… and still.
What could you think,
Knowing she can never be awakened?
Nothing could revive her,
Or replace the smile once again.

3-21-1990
Written by Gail Brookshire

WANTED

In search of a killer.
He’s searching for you.
He’s killed many others
And he will kill you too.
You’re not very perceptive
In thinking you will win.
You’ll have him begging for mercy?
Well, you’ll be the one to give in.
It’s best to put your knife away
And dare not make him upset.
For those who are the innocent,
Are the ones to meet their death.

10-30-1989
Written by Gail Brookshire
God knows everything!

MURDER

It’s a normal event.
One to destroy your world.
There is no escape.
It is your destination.
Are you ready for your vacation?
It’s dooms day.
Just don’t try to
Work out of it.
It’s your… life.

10-29-1989
Written by Gail Brookshire
Inspiration: S.H.
Why did they die? There is no reasoning!
But God knows everything!

Another Murder

How many more will die
The victim to a crime?
When I turn around,
There is another one down on the line.
In the river, it’s becoming
A familiar place to die.
How many more will suffer?
And please tell me, Why?

10-29-1989 Sunday
Written by Gail Brookshire
Inspiration: S.H.
A friend for life or death.

Young Girls

We tell secrets.
We laugh a lot.
Things of tragedies,
We haven’t forgot.
Best friends, twin sisters,
We really love each other.
But there will be a day,
We won’t see one another.
We play games.
We giggle at things.
We find songs.
We love to sing.
We play house.
We play braves.
We find an entrance
To our graves.

10-18-1989
Written by Gail Brookshire
Inspiration: dear friends ❤