My Random Poetry Pt. 3

My Random Poetry Pt. 3

Nora Rudmann


Isn’t It Simple


In Uniform

Line By Line



Why Be Different When

You Can Be

In Uniform

In One

In The Same

A Segment

Of Who You Really Are


Isn’t It Easy

To Hide

In Uniform

To Strip Yourself

Of Everything You Are

Slowly Dying Inside

But You Can’t Show It

Because This IS Normal

And If You Don’t Like It

Then You Must Not Be


Imagine coming

to the place that you haven’t been

in years. The people welcome you back with open arms, but something

isn’t right about their



Imagine coming

to the place that used to be

full of happiness but is now as barren as a ghost town,

minus the usual dusty



Imagine walking

into the church and attending mass but

everyone seems to be trying to distract you from something over there.

and you can’t help



Imagine entering

the old graveyard and walking through the

gloomy rows of graves but something there seems to haunt your mind.

I hear her voice



Imagine running

to her family plot and seeing a

headstone that just happens to read her last name, and desperately skimming

the list before seeing



Imagine reaching

it, desperate, crying, no, that’s not it,

that can’t be it, it’s my fault. And imagine shouting from the

ground, Why did I



Imagine falling

to the ground. Crying, Why’d she leave?

desperately wanting her back, but somehow, you know that she’s gone. And

she is never coming




Mirror, mirror on the wall,

who’s that person down the hall?

Treading softly, eyes ablaze,

staring at the sullen wall.


Mirror, mirror in my hand,

who’s that person who doth stand

weeping as they mark the wall

with a doleful person’s brand?


Glass Bubbles

The fire roars

And the molten glass bubbles

But the gaffer is not shaken


He dips his


Pipe into the

Pot of gooey liquid

And when he pulls it out, a little glob is stuck on the end


He blows into his pipe

The little glob of melted wonder enlarging until a big bubble is present

Almost floating

Almost loose

Almost gone


Yet it cools rapidly as the gaffer

Smooths out the curves and

Rounds out the edges


Soon more glass bubbles appear

Looking like they’ll fly away too

But they don’t


Because no matter how much

Glass bubbles

Want to leap into the air

They’ll always solidify too quickly to






and she hears



she strokes

a dog’s fur

and she feels



she spies

a lake

and she sees



she eats

ice cream

and she tastes



she sniffs

a flower

and she smells



and the cycle continues

until she’s run out of

noises to feel

textures to see

colors to taste

foods to smell

aromas to hear