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Passions in Poetry

Nine

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sixington
Member
since 07-14-2003
Posts 54
Utah


0 posted 09-20-2003 10:00 PM       View Profile for sixington   Email sixington   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for sixington

You donít know
How brilliant the color
Of the spiders web is,
Nor how sticky and messy it is.
You donít appreciate the pattern.
You donít have time.
I did.
Everything became too much,
And because I spent so much
Time helping others, I
Walked straight into this
Mass of boredom, mess.
Iím a fly, stuck
In a web across the room
Made of peoples opinions, made of
My differences.
And I take a deep breath as
I see the spider come closer.
And I donít fight as
He pulls at me.
I die the way I want to;
Bleeding to death.
Why couldnít it have been my fault?

© Copyright 2003 Amanda - All Rights Reserved
Why
Junior Member
since 09-26-2003
Posts 32
Middle of nowhere


1 posted 09-26-2003 09:42 PM       View Profile for Why   Email Why   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Why

interesting poem it sounds much like many peoples lives. i really enjoyed it
 
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