Kay Rice

Scribble, little scribble, a line with curves grows,
Words appear through my pen, how, I don’t know.
A doodle with words that paint a picture so clear,
From feelings and fears, and hearts I hold dear.

Scribble, little scribble, you take on a life of your own,
Creating a quilt from patches of life, you have sewn.
What starts as a spot on the paper, blank and new,
Becomes a story that is shared with many and few.

Scribble, little scribble, from whispers of the soul,
You lead the way to heal, to mend and to make whole.
The words trickle from the muse, who whispers to me,
And paints the picture for all, who wish to see.

Scribble, little scribble, you were once called nonsense,
Yet you opened the gate to a world that once was fenced.
Dreams and fears and joys unable to be said out loud,
Words which now dance and dare to be proud.

Scribble, little scribble, so many years you saw me through,
My life was made perfect, from your lines and curlicues.
The words you drew, gave my own voice a chance to say,
That these words have brought me to where I can rejoice today.





Kay Rice

Lost, darkness surrounds my form,
Immobility, caged wings since I was born.
Waiting for the day when the light creeps in,
Only a small sliver is needed for life to begin.

Silenced, crouched, waiting to take flight,
Saving the rage for the day I stand to fight.
Hungry for the light, starved for the sky,
The crushing darkness does its best to deny.

Waiting, motionless, but not as dead as was thought,
My soul may have been enslaved, but was never bought.
Starve the wolf, she will become vicious to find prey,
Cage the hawk, she will flap harder to break away.

Faster, now faster the seconds pass by,
A crack has opened, it’s now time to fly.
Bones that were broken, become wings strong,
A life cast away, stands to right all the wrong.

Don’t you know in the end there is always a new start?
That wisdom comes from a life of hard lessons taught?
From ashes a spark will give birth to a bird of gold and fire,
Where darkness can not touch her and wings will never tire.


Tick, Tock

Tick Tock
Kay Rice

Tick, tock, can you hear this moment pass us by?
Watch as the second-hand makes the moment fly,
Don’t you know we can’t get this time back?
There is no time to waste by getting off track.

Tomorrow never comes and yesterday is already gone.
It’s too late when you realize you never sang life’s song.
Putting off the moments that could make us smile,
Instead choosing the things that put us through trials.

Tick, tock, can you hear the day passing by?
Opportunities to live just pass us with only a sigh.
We can’t walk this way again, as we wait, trails fade,
Dreams passed up for a future that may not be made.

This second that we waste with hurt and with tears,
Will only build to hours wasted on senseless fears.
The sun is shining now, it may not be in the next day,
Shouldn’t we throw off the pain and go out and play.

Tick, tock, can you hear the passing of our dreams?
Life is only a moment and never what it really seems.
We can’t take things back that are said and done,
But we can kick off our shoes and go play in the sun.

And look at all the memories we sit here missing,
Wasting away on moments reminiscing.
Instead of lost in memories of days long past,
Shouldn’t we make the ones we want to last?


Behind Your Eyes Is Greed

Behind Your Eyes is Greed
Kay Rice

Everyone else is to blame,
While you strategically drop a name.
The world is at fault for your demise,
How quickly you move to change your lies.

Putting everyone down for your mistakes,
What else is there left to take?
Not knowing what you really need,
What lays behind your eyes is only greed.

Friends are there for what they give,
Trust is lost, like water through a sieve.
Switching sides so fast you forget your lies,
Why should anyone reach out and try.

Lies and hate are what you breed,
Behind your eyes lays only greed.
What can be taken today, is that the goal?
What lays in your heart is an empty hole.

Every one else is to blame for your fall,
You take until there is nothing left at all.
Riding on the accomplishments of others,
Using lies as your life’s complete cover.

Taking what was never yours to take,
Always blaming the world for your mistake.
Wasting away from what you think you need,
Behind your eyes lays years of greed.


Who Am I?

Who Am I?
Kay Rice

Look at me and tell me what you see.
Is it really me or what you want me to be?
Would you be happier if my eyes were green?
Or maybe I should be taller and easier to be seen.

Maybe, I should be quiet and perfectly sweet,
Smile and be shy to all that I meet.
Or would you prefer me to be bold and loud,
Completely sure of myself and ever so proud.

Perhaps to be seen in ribbons and bows,
Content to be happy with what I already know.
Instead of curious to what is hidden out there,
Perhaps I should pretend that I just don’t care.

Should I give the answers you think I should give?
Or should I decide that this is my own life to live?
Play nice or push back, which way do I go?
You would think at my age, I would already know.

I am caught in the middle of knowing what is right.
Do I give in and just be? Or do I stand up and fight?
Finding out who I am and what I really am inside,
Not being ashamed or hanging my head to hide.

I hope when you look at me that what you see,
Is a flower who is growing from a long dormant seed.
Give me the strength and the love to survive,
Yet give me the room to grow and reach for the sky.


A Storm is Brewing

A Storm is Brewing
Kay Rice

The wind is blowing familiar words that warn,
Feel the change, hold on tight for the storm.
     Heart is pounding,
          Ears are sounding,
               Blood is pumping,
                    The storm is coming.

I’ve been walking in this world asleep,
Frozen, buried, lost in a tomb so deep.
     Hands clenched tight,
          Eyes targeted on sight,
               Feel the need to run,
                    Storm clouds block the sun.

I am not just a memory to be forgot.
I am not a corpse left here to rot.
      Earth moves slow,
          Winds sharply blow,
               Feel the thunder within,
                    A storm now begins.

Say what you will to silence my voice.
The wind will carry it on with no remorse.
     Heart is beating,
          Time is fleeting,
               The thunder rolls,
                     Storms take their toll.

Sleep-walking, Sleep-talking, like the walking dead,
Nightmares are memories buried deep in the head.
     Wake up to rise,
          Time to fly,
               Hold on tight,
                    This storm takes flight.



Kay Rice

I wake shaken, sweat pouring from my brow,
Where am I, what time is it now?
My wrists ache from the ghost’s strong hold,
My lungs gasp, as if just released from the cold.

They return without warning, to drag me back there,
Kicking and screaming, I feel my soul stripped bare.
I smell the stench and the smoke of the old musty walls,
I feel the pain in my legs, as they weaken and fall.

The sounds are real and my ears pound in fear,
Every inch of my skin knows what horror is near.
It’s only a dream, I keep telling myself,
But my cries are not heard, I know there’s no help.

Frantic, my heart beats, I know what to expect.
My mind clouds quickly, how did I fall back?
The fear and the memories are real, here in the night,
They wait for me, stalking, until the end of days light.

The shadows that die when you stand by my side,
Wait to jump out from the darkness where they hide.
Reach for me, I beg, and pull me out of this sleep,
Kiss me and remove me from these nightmares so deep.

I awake to you, shaken and broken again,
A new day to start over, new steps to begin.
But the memories are as real as the scars on my skin,
So I wait for the time, when the nightmares will end.