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My Heart Speaks
My Heart Speaks
My Heart Speaks
Ebook166 pages1 hour

My Heart Speaks

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My Heart Speaks is not just a jumbled mass of words strung together haphazardly to form poems; it is a glimpse into my emotions and the inner workings of my mind. When you read my poetry, you are reliving an emotion or a situation that I've felt or lived through, respectively. Hold this book in your hands and you are holding a part of me.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherXlibris US
Release dateAug 23, 2013
ISBN9781483682228
My Heart Speaks
Author

Justine Wallace

Justine Wallace is currently 16 years old and a high school student. Poetry is a passion of hers and has been for over four years. She has written about 250 poems. Justine started writing lighthearted poetry with humorous themes in sixth grade, but as she grew older, the poems became intensely personal because most were based on her emotions. Poetry was- and still is- an outlet for feelings that could not be expressed or understood in any other fashion. When she isn't writing, you might find her in various craft stores, as another passion of hers is making and selling handcrafted jewelry through her small business "The Starving Jeweler." Justine also knits, crochets, ties macramé bracelets, wire-smiths, makes three- dimensional origami sculptures, solves puzzle cubes, and plays euphonium. Even though Justine loves to read and write poetry, her head will most likely be buried in an astronomy book. After all, the stars are her second home.

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    Book preview

    My Heart Speaks - Justine Wallace

    Mama, It’s Your Birthday

    Mama, it’s your birthday, so I’ve prepared this rhyme.

    It’s about you and me—our life—the upward climb.

    Mama, you’ve been sunshine on each cloudy day.

    You’ve been a big brother to make the bullies go away.

    Mama, you’ve been a big sister with whom my secrets I shared.

    You’ve been an upstanding citizen to which no one can be compared.

    Mama, you’ve been Superman and you’ve been Wolverine.

    And sometimes, when times are bad, you’ve been crazy

    like Charlie Sheen.

    Mama, you’ve been my rock, but you’ve been my pillow too.

    And no matter how tall I get, I still look up to you.

    Mama, you’ve been everything that I never had.

    You’ve been all these others while also being dad.

    Mama, it’s your birthday, and I hope that you can see

    That you’ve been everyone, and you’re everything to me.

    21433.jpg

    The Element

    Between the green

    And the blue,

    Beyond the black

    And under your shoe

    Is where it moves

    And where it lives,

    Where it takes

    And where it gives.

    It’s what we ask for

    Yet don’t receive;

    It’s what we look for

    But don’t retrieve.

    It melts the ice

    And douses the fire

    And is what we all

    Safely desire.

    With all,

    With none,

    With many,

    With one,

    With ourselves,

    Or with another

    Is what remains

    To be discovered.

    It hunts, it fights,

    Always blunt with might.

    It helps and heals

    And always feels.

    Healing all ailments,

    Major and minor,

    Nothing’s been meaner

    And nothing’s been kinder.

    22901.jpg

    Drifting

    I’ve drifted into dreamland,

    Drifted into seas,

    Drifted far away from home,

    And drifted back to please.

    I’ve drifted in bellowing rivers

    And beyond green and barren trees.

    I’ve drifted past my hopes and goals

    And forsaken my memories.

    I drift because I cannot run.

    I cannot get away.

    So I let life take me

    Somewhere new each day.

    I drift because I know my limits.

    I accept what I cannot do.

    I drift to ignore my faults.

    I drift to not feel so blue.

    I drift to abandon life,

    To finally give in.

    I drift to end it all

    And I drift to begin.

    I drift to find some inner peace,

    To cut my inane soul loose

    From the manacles of regret

    And the depression that is my noose.

    I drift through time without a clock

    With no more time to spend.

    I drift till I can drift no more

    And come to a crashing end.

    22903.jpg

    His Green Eyes

    The little green stars

    That dance in bottles

    Are your eyes,

    And they’ve got me full throttle.

    I wish and I wish and I wish for so much.

    I wish for your love and your time and your touch.

    Your eyes are so beautiful yet so blind

    Because I’m right here but you’ve left me behind.

    Can’t you just see why I’m here?

    Can’t you just assuage my fear?

    I can’t lose again, I can’t lose you.

    This time it just has to be true.

    You must be a hypnotist

    Because I’m entranced

    In this pitifully beautiful

    And unfortunate circumstance.

    I feel like I silently ask so much of you,

    But you never hear me speak.

    Just your presence or your smile

    Leaves me unsure and lost and weak.

    You’re stuck in my mind like caramel.

    You’re a secret that I’ll never tell.

    You simply cannot be mortal.

    To heaven those green eyes are a portal.

    I feel my presence disturbs you,

    Sets your balance slightly askew.

    I apologize for my open mouth and glare.

    I can’t help but stare.

    . . . Because a stare is all I’ll ever get,

    If I’m lucky a phrase or two.

    But you don’t even like me

    When I’m awestruck by you.

    I sigh forever in discontent.

    I’m losing myself to you.

    You don’t even know it,

    And I don’t know what to do.

    22905.jpg

    He

    He causes the pounding in my chest

    And my drastic loss of sleep.

    I’m in a permanent state of unrest

    But my feelings I wish to keep.

    It’s a wonderful feeling

    To know that he gets me going,

    But I wind up reeling

    What I wound up throwing.

    You see, I’m hooked on his face,

    On his sweet benevolence.

    It’s a taste of heavenly grace

    That only I should recompense.

    Oh, he’s a dream when I’m awake

    And a story playing live.

    He’s the shaking to my earthquake

    And the highness to my five.

    He embodies all criteria I seek

    And makes perfection just a word.

    He’s every day in my week

    And has the tenderness of a bird.

    But he has the sight of an eyeless man

    And the power to ignore fact

    Because to him I always ran,

    But he never saw my tact.

    I’m just another person in the world,

    An extra in this production;

    And all my dreams are left unfurled,

    And in my way is every possible obstruction.

    But something in me won’t relent;

    Of these feelings I can’t let go.

    Oh my, all this time I’ve spent,

    And he doesn’t even know.

    22908.jpg

    The Unknown

    Waiting for a miracle

    And acting on regret,

    But it’s not time to worry-

    It’s not time to fret.

    Oh, I beg to differ,

    I beg to tell you so,

    But for what the truth is

    I simply do not know.

    Rather I do know

    But I want to keep it

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