* * *
and no I'm not okay
so please my dear
don't believe anything I say
Poems on the topic: trust
Poems on the topic “trust” on Poets.by.
* * *
you tell me one thing
then do another
What happened to us?
I wonder
safe
You were supposed to be my safe place but you ended up being the reason I was in danger
gave you my all
How niave must one be to give their all to someone who's barley worthy.
But who am I to talk?
Since that niave someone was once me.
trust
The word trust
Reminds me of a flower
For it can either grow
Into something beautiful
Or weep
And become non-existent
A note
Thank you
For not being there
When I needed you the most.
Trust me,
You are the one who taught me
Not to expect anything from anyone.
Broken trust
My trust in eternal friendship broke the day you decided to leave for a single mistake I made
To a Squirrel at Kyle-na-gno
Come play with me;
Why should you run
Through the shaking tree
As though I'd a gun
To strike you dead?
When all I would do
Is to scratch your head
And let you go.
The Confidant
The wood is talking in its sleep.
Have a care, trees!
You are heard by the brook and the breeze
And the listening lake;
And some of the birds are awake,
I know.
Green, garrulous wood, I trusted you so!
Sonnet 138: When my love swears that she is made of truth
When my love swears that she is made of truth,
I do believe her though I know she lies,
That she might think me some untutor'd youth,
Unlearned in the world's false subtleties.
Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young,
Although she knows my days are past the best,
Simply I credit her false-speaking tongue:
On both sides thus is simple truth suppressed:
But wherefore says she not she is unjust?
And wherefore say not I that I am old?
O! love's best habit is in seeming trust,
And age in love, loves not to have years told:
Therefore I lie with her, and she with me,
And in our faults by lies we flatter'd be.
Sonnet 122: Thy gift, thy tables, are within my brain
Thy gift, thy tables, are within my brain
Full character'd with lasting memory,
Which shall above that idle rank remain,
Beyond all date; even to eternity:
Or, at the least, so long as brain and heart
Have faculty by nature to subsist;
Till each to raz'd oblivion yield his part
Of thee, thy record never can be miss'd.
That poor retention could not so much hold,
Nor need I tallies thy dear love to score;
Therefore to give them from me was I bold,
To trust those tables that receive thee more:
To keep an adjunct to remember thee
Were to import forgetfulness in me.
Sonnet 48: How careful was I when I took my way
How careful was I when I took my way,
Each trifle under truest bars to thrust,
That to my use it might unused stay
From hands of falsehood, in sure wards of trust!
But thou, to whom my jewels trifles are,
Most worthy comfort, now my greatest grief,
Thou best of dearest, and mine only care,
Art left the prey of every vulgar thief.
Thee have I not lock'd up in any chest,
Save where thou art not, though I feel thou art,
Within the gentle closure of my breast,
From whence at pleasure thou mayst come and part;
And even thence thou wilt be stol'n I fear,
For truth proves thievish for a prize so dear.
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