paintings (edited)

I did this poem a while ago, but fixed some of the rhymes and language to make the meter a bit better.

This is the story about a young couple,
Their love, like all, was tender and supple.
They loved one another as all couples do,
But it's up to you if their love is true.

We begin with the very first day they share,
During which the man was searching with care.
For the poor woman had just lost her watch,
They couldn't find it anywhere - oh what a botch!

And then the second day was not any better,
Even though the man promised he'd love her forever.
For the woman had lost her only job,
And to his condolences, she only mustered a sob.

On the third day, poor fortune struck thrice,
And today her faithful man was so humble and nice.
For the unlucky woman's dog fell and lost its life,
He tended to her heart, torn with sorrow and strife.

The fourth day was ripe with such bitter sorrow,
On this day she cried from the morning 'til the 'morrow.
When the woman learned of her father's passing,
The man tried to comfort her, but was not harassing.

The fifth and final day was by far the worst,
Her man was gone and her heart seemed to burst.
She awakened all alone and with a scare,
Until suddenly she noticed a letter by the stairs.

Her one truly beloved told her to go to the park,
So she did as he said, while moving through the dark.
He said to look for a bench plain in sight,
And by the time she got there, the sun shone bright.

Standing before her were five separate paintings,
And they quickly rid her of all the week's taintings.
Quickly and noticeably, tears filled her eyes,
She started to weep, but these were different cries.

The first painting was of her, in the very same coat,
And in it she was reaching deep, pulling out a note.
She did the same, and made a startled sound,
For in it was her watch, and a note, "Look what I found."

The second painting was of her dear homestead,
And beneath it lay an inscription that read:
"Our love runs deep, encompassing a wide range,
Not even losing a job, can ever that change."

Looking on to the third, was a painting that did show,
A young puppy of one, in a store window.
Attached to the painting, was another note that did say:
"I've left his name for you to choose, that is if you let him stay."

The fourth was a portrait of her father,
But his visage to her, did not seem to bother.
For below his face, were words far apart, saying,
"He has never truly died, he now lives within your heart."

The fifth and final painting was of a woman and a man,
The woman looked at paintings, while the man held out his hand.
In the painting she was slowly turning, looking behind her to see,
Her lover holding in his hand a ring, bent down on one knee.

lost

While lost one day
I remember my childhood,
when if I was lost,
someone would take me home.

Retracing my steps, I walk past houses I'm not allowed to enter.
Dead end after dead end mock me at every turn.
It's starting to darken as streetlamps flicker,
and I stare at the stars - wondering who will take me home.

dear self,

you have a lot to offer,
you can think positively,
you attract good things,
you aren't afraid of failing.

you swim in confidence,
you are most important,
you just need to be yourself,
you don't need to worry.

you hate the butterflies,
you like the unknown,
you love yourself.

which socks today?
purple, orange, or gray?
yellow for a smile,
pink for the style.

red if i'm mad,
blue if i'm sad.
black if i don't care,
oh - which to wear?

white for 'just another day,'
brown to be cliche.
green for 'look at that!'
wait, what about my hat?

you are small.
insignificant.
your problems
are but a single ripple
in the vast lake that is the universe.

you will never have an effect
on planets light years away.
you will die,
like everyone else,
your life ultimately meaning nothing.

so take your worries of today
and let them be washed away
by the tide of enormity
that blankets all things in existence
and serves as our only common thread.