Stories We Are Told

They lied to us
From the very beginning
They told us fairy tales
While they were sinning

And we believed
The stories we were told
But they knew the truth
Blind faced and bold

In a world so false
And we never did know
Until we were on our own
In a world all alone

Stoic Poetry


When the stories are written
And the chapters are all done
I just never know where it ends
Or if the words are the right ones

This side of me has finally gone
So then why do I still strive
What am I so tightly holding on to
It’s killing me inside, keeping me alive

Stoic Poetry


Just A Writer

He lives inside his head
Worlds once only imagined
Through words he has said
Life is given to the pageant

The journey is given
So others maybe see
A new point of view
Of what a life can be

Everyone has a story
One that needs telling
On keyboard or in ink
Inside it is always dwelling

Write it down, tell the tale
Before it begins to fade
Releasing the demons
In silence that are made

Stoic Poetry

Are We Alright

Would you trade this life for another?
For shadows that lead away
Leaving behind only echoes
A past of painful truths

Will you forge a new pathway?
Built on lessons learned
Stories that are over now
Chapters written and done
But the book is incomplete

There are pages still blank
Waiting for a hand to touch
Words are left unwritten
Much left undone, so much

Stoic Poetry

The Writer

Breathing life where there was none
In a world of creation
The story grows page by page
Deepest sorrow, highest elation

Chapter by chapter, line by line
Showing what this chaos means
Late at night and early dawn
Arranging words upon the screen

Now nearly finished, take a break
The final words still to be penned
The hero may yet win
That all depends

I will write until it is done
The deadline is close; so is the sun
What started as fun, now so serious
Waiting to be read by everyone

Stoic Poetry


Can I tell you some stories?
Ones you have never heard
Ones of facts and fiction
I will gladly put into words

All the once upon a times
Tragedies and happy endings
Angels and fiery dragons
The fallen and weak defended

Then the pages are turned
The visage of ancient realms
New ventures to embark upon
Until sleep takes the helm

Stoic Poetry

Always Here

Release the dogs of war!
Literary beasts, teeth rending,
the fabric of personal realities,
digested too long, spew forth.

Primal vicissitudes evolve,
transformed by perception and time,
unleashed, set forth to feed,
ravenous souls bereft of direction.

Purpose guide my pens blade,
slash life upon the virgin page,
blood stained truth covering,
lies and banality of evil.

Stoic Poetry


So, so many words
Pages pile upon the desk
A book in the making
Never would have guessed

Nearly finished, now
Breathing characters
In my waking hours
Some I rather prefer

The story is a long one
But I will win the quest
Years of writing
Every line is my best

Stoic Poetry