Thorns Over Jewels

By Vaughn Vogelman

Have you ever considered the darkness behind a poem? Poetry, for centuries, has been written to entertain, persuade, and inform audiences of their times. It has taken various forms from haikus to freestyle and many others. Yet what have we said about darkness other than it is the absence of light? Adventure into poetry like never before. Watch it breathe life into your soul and show what really hides in the darkness.

In this book, poems have been written to persuade you to take another look at darkness. Can light be exposed to it? Is it really possible for my hurts to go away? Having written poems for years, I can say yes, it is. Art has a way to express itself and speaks to each individual uniquely. Read a poem, catch a glimpse of its story, and watch as it brings light into the darkness in your life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fulton Books, Inc.
• Release date: Oct 27, 2023
• ISBN: 9798889826095

Book preview

Table of Contents

Title

Copyright

Introduction

Above

Beyond the Stars

The Boy in the Dark

Breath

Cold-Hearted Martyr

Crown

Dead Memories

Diamond Eyes

Inside My Kingdom

Insidious Suicide of the Beggar

Ism Aut

Lost in Her Arms

Orphan of Pelham

Outside the Bridge

Pain of Forever

Railroad Commoner

Red

The Shadow Casts a Star

Shadow of a Rose

Simple Life

Splash of Color

Waiting Room

The Window

Zingaro's Curse

Goodbye

About the Author

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Thorns Over Jewels

Vaughn Vogelman

Copyright © 2023 Vaughn Vogelman

All rights reserved

First Edition

Fulton Books

Meadville, PA

Published by Fulton Books 2023

ISBN 979-8-88982-608-8 (paperback)

ISBN 979-8-88982-609-5 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

A special thanks to my wife, Rachel.

My friends Josh and James for encouraging me to keep on writing.

Introduction

I awaken from a dream of fantasies that carry me away into a deep sleep—the kind of dream I wish never occurred yet still blankets my soul years after digging it out.

It was the middle of a warm day, yet I cannot recall if it was summer or spring. Where I am from, seasons only come in two types, temperature-wise: summer, where it is too hot, or winter, where even a degree below eighty Fahrenheit summons jackets among commoners. However, the weather was not the problem; it was the time of the day, a midafternoon.

I recall having the curtains open. How do I know this? Because I remember it being bright in the room, by the sun—a perfect time after working a 4:00 a.m. shift at the local grocery store to take a well-needed nap. Laying my head down on my pillow, I closed my eyes and drift asleep. It was at this crucial time that my life changed forever, the moment I realized I needed to write poetry—a new destiny.

The dream I am about to recall is one that has never been so clear in my mind, ever so before. It is one that I will never forget. No matter how you think of it or see it or envision it, as you may call it, you may not; but my hope is that you see the dark inside it. In this dream, I am standing on a wooden floor in a common hallway of an old home, at least two hundred years old. I first notice a window with a small light coming from it at the right front