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| Dark Poetry #4 |
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Lexy Senior Member
since 2003-01-28
Posts 1038California |
I'm in a heap of blankets, I'm the white sheet, light and easily stained. I sat in class today. I sat there and grinned. Pounded my head with steal bricks, I'm building a skyscraper. A monument to you, and your unsatisfaction. I'm the one with the quiet voice. I've lost myself in the heap. I cant come put to play, not today, or any there after. I told you, I'm white, like an angel or something. I know, I really should speak up. Maybe I'll smile some other day, you say I look prettier that way. I heard them, and I almost ran full force into the mud. I'm real, don't deny my existance. I'm a little girl, my heart is yellow, I'm sunshine. I'm beautiful and happy right? Wrong, the road is dark, and the air is damp. The fog triggers my tears to spill. [This message has been edited by Lexy (10-01-2003 08:53 PM).] |
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| © Copyright 2003 Alexis Smith - All Rights Reserved | |||
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River Senior Member
since 2003-09-16
Posts 627my own little world |
hmm...thats me 2 girl...i know what you mean, great job =) A river of change is rushing over me, through me. Forfeit to the waters, forget the past, live in the present. |
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coyote Senior Member
since 2001-03-17
Posts 1077 |
"The fog triggers my tears to spill." Liked this ending. "Fog" messes with all of us eventually. coyote 8) "Who knows if to live is to be dead, and to be dead, to live? And we really, it may be, are dead; in fact I once heard sages say that we are now dead, |
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Tourniquet Junior Member
since 2003-09-18
Posts 13 |
A monument to you, and your unsatisfaction. I love this line. Its so submissive and yet so defiant at the same time. Great poem  |
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