Just A Lil Bit of Poetry

Here's a roundel, a style of poetry I tried for fun: to challenge myself. (Sometimes using colons and semi-colons makes me feel pretentious.)

The World Does Not Care About Our Ego
Is it any wonder that we’ve fallen to our knees,
crying and moaning, twisting and turning, we’re burning
in this set world where nothing is ever what it seems?
Is it any wonder?

We’re mindlessly running after things that we’re yearning,
constantly fighting and biting for blurry old dreams,
as we try to forget that the pot just keeps churning.

We search for meaning in all of the world’s threads and seams,
trying to forget that after death it keeps turning,
trying to forget that life does not heed our screams.
Is it any wonder?
End

A prompt from poetry writing class. The title had to be in this format, and I chose the name Scarlett because it was the only person I can imagine asking me what a constellation is. It's supposed to be an extended metaphor. We had a list of words to choose from that we could describe.

In Answer to Scarlett’s Question, “What’s a Constellation?”
A constellation floats in the sky –
a kite whose string is attached to your eye,
a balloon that has slipped from a 12-year-old’s wrist.
She stands in the parking lot
watching it float higher into the black night.
Sometimes it’s golden or grey or has a faint tint of red.
Or sometimes it’s shy, ducking behind clouds that fly overhead.
Sometimes you see it, you know it, you can name it,
but sometimes it doesn’t make any sense.
It’s something you share with a father, a sister,
lying on the hard ground that’s cold and dimpled.
You’ll point with practiced eye,
but unless your companion stares down the line of your arm,
the pattern will be lost in the cluttered tangle of stars.
A constellation that floats in the sky.
End

I don't remember what I wrote this for.

L.O.V.E.
I was pulling darkness out of holes for years,
trying to find something to hold onto.
I was always talking about changing
before I realized what your name could mean.

You put some life into me,
and slowly set me free by placing tears on my cheeks
and smiles where doubt used to be.
I’m not hopping over cracks in sidewalks
pr counting down the steps to my defeat,
now that I know what your name means.

I didn’t know that I could breathe
before you pulled me from the holes-
from the darkness that I couldn’t hold.
I didn’t know that I was you,
or you were me,
until I wrote your name down:
L. O. V. E.
End