Poem- The Helpless Romantic

I'm that guy
 That cares too much
I am that person
 Seeking love's sweet touch
The individual within shadows
 So his partner may shine
A fool for a thousand hearts
 Wishing one were mine
When deceived
 I'll bite my tongue
When disgraced
 I'll bide my time
In this world of broken promises
 What is his, is never mine
Careless am I of personal gain
 Selfless am I to what I'll give
Wandering through streets uncertain
 I'll bare it all and that's how I'll live
I am that guy
 Who cares too much
I'm that lover
 In life, out of touch.

--
by Spencer Meyers

POEM: The Sisters of the Gate

One was cerebral
One was tall
Golden was her dress
Intricate; without flaw

Her hair was white
Spiraled; piled on top
With trinkets and coins
Within that tangled mop

The other like a mirror
Stoic was her face
With dress slightly tattered
Skin of an unknown race

Clothing like the night
Raven was her hair
Moonbeams and starlight
Graced this goddess fair

Together they stood
Still in their place
Together; never blinking
Staring face to face

Their role was clear
These daughters of the Fates
These muses of the artists
The sisters of the Gate

Never would they sleep
Forever; they would be
Gatekeepers to inspiration
Unlocking the world to me

One of the day
The other of night
Souls of the creators
To be their every sight

On this little island
Forever to stand
Whores to every artist
The souls of every man.

Copyright 2012 Spencer Paul Meyers

Grey-laced Ghost-2005
Once forgotten
Once lost
A sparkled dream
A hazed grey frost
So many stories
Forgotten but told
So much lace
All stained and now old
Words not spoken
Characters well worn
Excitement well threaded
Fastenings well torn
Many different story tellers
Different shapes; different kinds
Simple stories crossing
Now where the corset binds
This grey-laced ghost
Restored and draped
Generations of stories
Within the bodice shape
Once forgotten
Once lost
A sparkled dream
A hazed grey frost.
-Spencer Meyers