Lauren Doesitall

Fall season of my life
It is way different than regular
This fall will be followed by winter
The winter may last longer, but not another fall

I can miss you,
I can grieve for you,
but I don't want to bother you.
I can feel you,
I can be yours,
but I don't want to be a burden to you.
I can love you even in silence,
but I don't want anyone to
drag you down because of me.
I can be your strength
without being by your side,
but I don't want anyone to look down on you
just because of me.
I can be your ally, even from a distance,
but I don't want to be the reason for your downfall.
I can live without you,
even when it hurts,
but I am happy that you are
shining without me,
because that matters more.
I will always choose you as mine,
but without letting you know.
I can feel sad in your absence,
but I don't want you to hurt yourself.
I can die a hundred times,
but I don't want you to be blamed,
nor do I want your family to be blamed,
just because I have nothing
and no one by my side.
I can be your silent cheerleader,
but I can't be the reason for your problems.
I can hurt myself,
knowingly or unknowingly,
but I want you to look good
and be respected in modern society.
I can lose everything over time for you,
but I don't want you to lose anything,
because you deserve to have it all.
I can remain nameless in modern society,
but you are the source of everything
that still makes me believe in love.
That's why I love you,
but I let you go.

You've had a day,
and bad day it was. 
But can you compensate
for another's day's loss?

You may have felt
that you lost the opportunity
but another may have
felt complete disunity.

You may have cried
over something you couldn't keep,
while another hid their tears
over something buried deep.

You may have cursed
the cards that you were dealt,
while another wished
they could feel what you felt.

You call it a disaster,
a world that's turned unkind,
but someone else's battlefield
may be harder to find.

So tell me, how bad is bad?
Is it the pain that you can see?
Or the silent weight
that someone carries secretly?

For what breaks one person
may barely leave a scar,
and what seems small to you
may be another's hardest war.

And perhaps that's the point:
Don't measure pain by what is shown.
You never know how much
another soul has borne.

If you beg, you lose yourself.
A hollow echo rattling on a shelf,
Trading your spine for a passing nod,
Kneeling to mortals as if they were god.

If you give up, you lose dignity.
Surrendering quietly, willingly,
Folding your hands before the bell even rings,
Clipped by the shadow of broken wings.

If you run, you lose courage.
Leaving your blood in the mechanical forage,
Choosing the dark and the safety of walls,
Fading away as the empire falls.

If you cheat, you lose self-respect.
A cracked little mirror of your own neglect,
Winning a race where the finish is fake,
Swallowing water while choking on lake.

If you gossip, you lose love.
Trading the warmth of the skies above
For poison dropped gently from a velvet tongue,
A song of betrayal too easily sung.

But—

If you swim in poison to taste the golden cure,
If the hands that reach for it aren't quite pure,
If you burn your own name just to light up the game...
You’ve lost nothing.
You’ve gained fame.

The sun descending in the West,
The evening star does shine;
The birds are silent in their nest,
And I must seek for mine.
The moon, like a flower
In heaven’s high bower,
With silent delight,
Sits and smiles on the night.

Farewell, green fields and happy groves,
Where flocks have took delight,
Where lambs have nibbled, silent moves
The feet of angels bright;
Unseen, they pour blessing,
And joy without ceasing,
On each bud and blossom,
And each sleeping bosom.

They look in every thoughtless nest
Where birds are covered warm;
They visit caves of every beast,
To keep them all from harm:
If they see any weeping
That should have been sleeping,
They pour sleep on their head,
And sit down by their bed.

When wolves and tigers howl for prey,
They pitying stand and weep;
Seeking to drive their thirst away,
And keep them from the sheep.
But, if they rush dreadful,
The angels, most heedful,
Receive each mild spirit,
New worlds to inherit.

And there the lion’s ruddy eyes
Shall flow with tears of gold:
And pitying the tender cries,
And walking round the fold:
Saying: ‘Wrath by His meekness,
And, by His health, sickness,
Is driven away
From our immortal day.

‘And now beside thee, bleating lamb,
I can lie down and sleep,
Or think on Him who bore thy name,
Graze after thee, and weep.
For, washed in life’s river,
My bright mane for ever
Shall shine like the gold,
As I guard o’er the fold.

[F---- is, presumably, Mrs. Frances Sargent Osgood]

Beloved! amid the earnest woes
  That crowd around my earthly path--
(Drear path, alas! where grows
Not even one lonely rose)--
  My soul at least a solace hath
In dreams of thee, and therein knows
An Eden of bland repose.

And thus thy memory is to me
  Like some enchanted far-off isle
In some tumultuous sea--
Some ocean throbbing far and free
  With storms--but where meanwhile
Serenest skies continually
  Just o'er that one bright island smile.

If you hate the rain
rise up and look for the sun.
It's behind a cloud.