 Ann Christine Tabaka, is better known by her middle name, Chris. She has been writing poems and rhymes since she was fourteen. She was an artist, a chemist, and a personal trainer. She recently had 4 poems accepted into the upcoming Contemporary Group’s anthology “Dandelion in a Vase of Roses,” 1 poem accepted and posted in “Whispers,” 2 poems accepted by “The Society of Classical Poets,” 2 poems accepted by the “Indiana Voice Journal,” and will have poems in the summer 2017 issue of “Halcyon Days Magazine. WASTELAND Lost in a place of undreamt dreams I can no longer find my way I wander through the shadowed halls Among the empty thoughts I stray The footsteps of those who came before Can still be heard within this hollow Beyond the silence no voices speak Along the path of which I follow NOBODY CARES People talking at you People talking over you People turn their backs on you Nobody cares Why should they care Why should they care People rushing past you People bumping against you People shoving into you Nobody cares Why should they care Why should they care Empty faces everywhere Blank expressions only stare People forget how to share Nobody cares Why should they care Does anybody care Everything is so strange No personal exchange Nothing ever seems to change Nobody cares Why should they care Do you care SAME OLD SAME OLD We never catch any fish yet we keep going fishing We never sell any books yet we continue to write We never lose any weight yet we keep on dieting We never give up fighting the perceived good fight We never win any games yet we keep on playing We never get very far yet we keep on walking Our prayers are never answered yet we keep on praying No one ever listens yet we keep on talking We continue to do the same things over and over again Even though we get the same outcome we never seem to change We keep loving the same people who do not love us back We need to learn life’s lesson and our actions rearrange COMFY SLIPPERS You fit me like a pair of old worn slippers Soft, warm, comfortable You mold to my shape and conform to my mood When I am feeling lonely You caress me Even your frayed edges have a familiar feel They are part of your charm Each wear mark holds a memory A special place in my heart Each stain tells a story Of our time together You are always there when I need you To make me feel secure I would be lost without you DARK SIDE Poems are not always pretty Some are ripped from the heart Torn from the very fabric of our being The shredder of life They are dark and foreboding Words spill our secret thoughts As they slowly leak out Like drops of blood from a pricked finger All at once There they are In the world for all to see Our ugliness exposed Bared before all All poems are not pretty rhymes
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