Rate this poem:(0.00 / 0 votes)

Hello. Goodbye!

Kayla Brooks 1988 (CA)

I have a way about me, with my prey, I pry.
I search for truth within, and why you deny a lie, making yourself cry.
I'll find what makes you tick, your helping hand to understand what's grand is written in the sand.
I'll see if your strength can hold, like bland fans seeking land on a band stand.
Pick out every weakness, do you quiver and shake, or own a mistake, and won't break.
Outline every strength, watching you wake to take claim to your steak, pushing through heartache.
I'll find what crawls, every sin that gets in beneath your skin, making you spin.
Listening for your voice, that tells Ken what's been is-to begin, with a grin.
You allowed me in, to catch a stare at a rare glare, I saw you bare. I took advantage of your eyes, how did I dare with you unaware so unfair, you were like fresh air.
I have a way about me, with my prey I pry.
I search for truth within, as I deny why I try, with a sigh.
To find what makes you tick, how your skin is so thick, if you get a kick out of a lick, this isn't a trick, I got addicted to you, guess I'm sick.
But you're like a tick, must remove quick.
It's nothing new, a tale as old as time, like religion and crime, a dozen to a dime.
Wishing it were different but I'm done, with the dirt and the grime, back to sublime, to my design by the end of this rhyme, the divine didn't align and that's fine, but it's a sign.
Font size:

Submitted by greatmoxi on May 21, 2021

1:26 min read

Kayla Brooks

From a loving family, and track meets. To Foster Care, then City streets, 12 years old smoking my treat. I overcame, survived and persisted. Full of love to give, lyrically inclined and gifted, psychotic and twisted. I live my life for me, it's my story and destiny and I need to feel free, and be me. more…

All Kayla Brooks poems | Kayla Brooks Books

FAVORITE (1 fan)

Discuss this Kayla Brooks poem with the community:



    Find a translation for this poem in other languages:

    Select another language:

    • - Select -
    • 简体中文 (Chinese - Simplified)
    • 繁體中文 (Chinese - Traditional)
    • Español (Spanish)
    • Esperanto (Esperanto)
    • 日本語 (Japanese)
    • Português (Portuguese)
    • Deutsch (German)
    • العربية (Arabic)
    • Français (French)
    • Русский (Russian)
    • ಕನ್ನಡ (Kannada)
    • 한국어 (Korean)
    • עברית (Hebrew)
    • Gaeilge (Irish)
    • Українська (Ukrainian)
    • اردو (Urdu)
    • Magyar (Hungarian)
    • मानक हिन्दी (Hindi)
    • Indonesia (Indonesian)
    • Italiano (Italian)
    • தமிழ் (Tamil)
    • Türkçe (Turkish)
    • తెలుగు (Telugu)
    • ภาษาไทย (Thai)
    • Tiếng Việt (Vietnamese)
    • Čeština (Czech)
    • Polski (Polish)
    • Bahasa Indonesia (Indonesian)
    • Românește (Romanian)
    • Nederlands (Dutch)
    • Ελληνικά (Greek)
    • Latinum (Latin)
    • Svenska (Swedish)
    • Dansk (Danish)
    • Suomi (Finnish)
    • فارسی (Persian)
    • ייִדיש (Yiddish)
    • հայերեն (Armenian)
    • Norsk (Norwegian)
    • English (English)


    Use the citation below to add this poem to your bibliography:


    "Hello. Goodbye!" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2022. Web. 25 Jan. 2022. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/100530/hello.-goodbye%21>.

    Become a member!

    Join our community of poets and poetry lovers to share your work and offer feedback and encouragement to writers all over the world!

    More poems by

    Kayla Brooks


    January 2022

    Poetry Contest

    Enter our monthly contest for the chance to win cash prizes and gain recognition for your talent.

    Browse Poetry.com


    Are you a poetry master?

    An esteemed poet appointed by a government or conferring institution such as the Royal Household is called?
    • A. Official
    • B. British Writer
    • C. Pulitzer
    • D. Poet Laureate