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By Elizabeth Merck

The following are all original poems written by Elizabeth Merck between 1994 and present day.

If published, the literary magazine is noted.

False Love

False Love

Published in The Bottom Line (AWHS Literary Magazine), 1994 

In Other Words: An American Poetry Anthology (Western Reading Services), 1997

A heart can only hold so much

Before it burns to ashes.

A mask will not disguise a touch - 

Just fools unworthy trespassers.

But if a mask should cover heart,

Beware of its strong hold.

For these were meant to be apart,

And lies will kill the soul.

Reflection Through Broken Glass


Unpublished, 1994

Looking through the window's glass,

I see a girl and boy.

A smile shines upon her face.

Her days are filled with joy.

But when the day turns into night,

And shadows take their places,

Her dreams turn into nightmares

Filled with haunting faces.

Her eyes begin to flutter,

And her memory comes down.

She's back reliving, once again,

Her childhood in town.

"After dinner, run upstairs,

Before your dad returns.

Brush your teeth and hop in bed

Before his temper burns.

Ignore the shouting voices,

And cries from mommy, dear.

Everything will be alright.

There's no need to be scared.

In the morning, you'll get up

And see that night has left,

And all you had were silly dreams

Last night when you slept."

Looking through the window's glass,

I see a girl confused.

The smile has left her cheek,

And her makeup covers bruise.

When the day turns into night,

She knows she has to face

Her terrors turned reality

In this twisted place.

Her eyes try to stay open,

But nature takes its course.

Darkness soon takes over

In his voice so deep and coarse.

"Remember what I said to you.

This is for your good.

I'd never really hurt you.

You know I never could.

If someone asks about the bruise,

Tell them that you fell.

Remember I'm your father,

And the truth you'll never tell.

My little girl, I love you.

Please try to understand."

But as the dawn breaks, once again,

She realizes she can't.

Looking through the window's glass,

I see a girl matured.

Depression is her only friend,

And painful tears have poured.

Day and night combine as one - 

A constant living hell.

Her innocence has long been lost

Locked up in this cell.

There is no little girl to hurt

For she has long been dead.

Now a stranger lies inside

The vast asylum in her head.

When she looks out through the glass

And sees her own reflection,

It's in a world that never offered her

An ounce of real protection.

White walls are now her domicile.

In there, no shadow lives.

Behind them lies a frightened girl

Who is trying to forgive.

She cries, "Let me out of here!

All this is in the past."

And when that truth is realized,

There may be light at last.

Scary Window Silhouette


Published in Marymount University's Literary Art Magazine, 1997

The door closes;

I face the fear of death.

No more roses

To help me through the day.

Darkness gapes

At my shriveled form.

No escapes;

Just a fee to pay.

Heart capsizes;

Earthquake to the brain.

Light baptizes;

Mysteries await.

No more

Nightmares of forever.

Heaven's door - 

I can't be late.

US Army Soldier in Universal Camouflage

Off At War

Unpublished, 1992

Alone is where I sit each day

Cut off from every sound.

All I do is dream of you,

When you'll be homeward bound.

I watch the flowers as they grow

And change with every season.

Why I watch I do not know.

Perhaps you are the reason.

Alone is where I sit each day,

And I feel only the air.

Through an open window

Is the only place I stare.

Many ask me questions

About what goes through my head.

I can only think of one - 

Are you alive or dead?

Alone is where I sit each day

To think of where you are.

I behold the darkness in the sky

And imagine you're the stars.

I talk to you as if you hear,

And I wait for your reply.

If I were allowed just one last thing

It would be to say goodbye.

Young Love

The Age Difference

Published in The Bottom Line (AWHS Literary Magazine Edition 10), 1994

Age is just a number,

And love takes time.

This is not another reason,

Not just another rhyme.

No matter what people say,

No matter what people do,

Remember - age is not the difference.

The difference is in you.

Man in the Mist

The Traveler

Published in The Bottom Line (AWHS Literary Magazine), 1996

Marymount University's Literary Art Magazine, 1999

Along the road of twisted pines,

Wind slides under picketed lines.

A traveler roams watched by none

Dressed in a cloak and stained by sun.

No sustenance could a poor chap find

While thirst played games in throat and mind.

The traveler stands oppressed but proud,

His dignity hidden beneath muddy shroud.

Without a pocket full of gold,

The game of life must cause a fold.

The sleet and tears of a ravenous sky

Claim his life with another sigh.

And the trees still sway while the grass still grows,

And the traveler is gone, yet no one knows.

Heart Pendant


Published in On the Road: 1999 Anthology (Association of Songwriters and Lyricists)

I was blinded so long by misery that my heart would not let you in.

Yet you stayed right by my side, and you buried yourself in my skin.

Your friendship became a necessity and your words a part of my day.

I treated you less than fairly, yet you still decided to stay.

You had patience with me at all hours, and gentleness shone from within.

You embraced me with laughter and smiles,

Until it mattered no more where I'd been.

Like an angel in disguise, you entered my life,

And you taught my heart to be free.

You gave me me courage and you gave me strength,

And you became the piece that completes me.

I began to feel something different, an experience entirely new.

Had I ever felt love before this? If I did, it could not have been true.

Because all your faults I embraced.

And all that was wrong still seemed right.

You're the first thing I think of each day

And the last thing I think of each night.

Like an angel in disguise, you entered my life,

And you taught my eyes to see.

You gave me courage and gave me strength,

And you became the piece that completes me.

I was always told as a child that gifts come to those who wait.

Well, God has blessed me with you, and I'm sure we can still that fate.

I hope I can be your angel and give great things to you.

Now, love me and I promise to be the piece that completes you.

Woman on Window Sill

The Dream

Unpublished, 1997

I can't live like this.

I can't play charades

When I know that I can't win.

Yet I can't just quit.

And I can't just pull

Myself from this place that I'm in.

I know what I need.

I know what's right.

Yet it's so hard to break free

From the way my life turned out

And the dream that it should be.

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