We had so many days
Without the sun
That rain on and off
It was horrible
Because the sky was
Always grey
I didn't go out
During the rainy days
I decided to catch up
On my sleep
Because I was very tired
And I woke up
Every single day
At noon
Then I watch a little bit
Of television
Then when it was 5:00 PM
I went back to bed sleep
I took couple days off
Work
Tomorrow I will go back to
Work for my Father
Now I miss work
That is the truth
I will write some poems
To my Father

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                           embers
                       dream cauldron

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                            Red
                        embers
                   snug love nest
               sweet yuletide flames
                          glow
 

                        Red
                    embers
               snug love nest
        sweet Yuletide flames
                   glow

I love my dad,
but my dad loves spending time with his friends.

I love my mom,
but my mom loves to gossip about others.

I love my aunty,
but she always seems to love my elder sister more.

And me?
I sit here, lonely —
longing for love, especially a parent's love.
Grieving quietly,
waiting for someone to notice.

Sometimes, being alone
feels better than being with those
who don’t see your worth.

But sometimes,
all I need is the love
I never got as a child.
My inner child still aches for it,

The Giver

One of the nine,
One of the great,
One of the daughters of Zeus.
One of the voices,
One of the sources,
One of the inspirations you use.
One of the givers,
Of the gifts,
For which you so desperately long.
I have the power,
I have the strength,
I am the mother of song.
Poets and Bards answer to me
They cannot gain their own creativity!
I am the one,
The one they all need.

When Alcinous orders him to sing as the the spirit stirs,
The bard calls, “Euterpe!”
“Please, bless me with inspiration!”

You prowl and you pursue
The new, the lonely, the meek or subdued
Initially you’re charming and sweet
You’ve got your game set and are prepared to not be beat

You’ve got your agenda, your purpose driving your chase
Victory you will surely taste.
And the words you utter at the start
May not be the true actions led by your dark heart.

You weave your tale
You flatter and enspell
Your eye on the goal
You whisper sweet nothings that awaken her naive soul

Deception and half truths are in your skill set