She Be a Poet: Optimistically Unhappy

Optimistically unhappy an unusual way to be,
I know there’s something waiting, waiting for me.
How do I try to reach it, I wonder what it is,
I know if I stop trying, I’ll miss my moment of bliss.

Optimistically unhappy, sunshine on Monday, Tuesday, complete haze,
No two days are the same, this life, complicated maze.
Tip toe around each corner and yet I want to run,
My feet itch, impatient, puzzled yearning to overcome.

Optimistically unhappy, hanging on, the weakest rope,
My finger tips are burning, constant reminder to elope.
Optimistically unhappy, it’s happiness I seek,
Why let go of this notion, optimistically, I will find it next week.

© Michelle Sotiriou 2014


She Be a Poet – In My Room

I hide in my room from noise I can’t bare  to hear,

I close the door, my own company near.

I talk to myself sometimes, is that weird?

Maybe so but who will know.

Solitude it seems is my true friend sometimes,

My choice so no one else to blame.

I hold myself captive, locked away,

My cell is a room full of books and dismay.

To break out would mean I would have to face,

A world which is harsh, I don’t want that embrace.

Time is ticking, the clock is slow,

I wait for the hand that strikes,

To awaken my soul.

© Michelle Sotiriou 2014


She Be a Poet – Moonstruck

Something came over me, my emotions high

It struck me all of a sudden, super moon in the sky.

Blinded at first by foliage, green leaves and robust bark

My struggle to see super moon in the dark.

Fixed and undeterred, my feet unable to move

Toes stuck like needles in a revolving groove.

Transfixed my eyes are swaying, through clouds and pesky branches

I decide my fate is out there so I stand and take my chances.

Super moon had planned for me, a night spent by the window

Lovely and beguiling, I can hear the wind blow.

The clearing of the clouds made way, the brightest opal

Super moon appeared to me, I begin to fall.

I feel a pang a tingling in my mind, something’s about to change,

Moonstruck the voice arrives to me, through the wind, it calls my name.

© Michelle Sotiriou 2014