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| Open Poetry #35 |
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Subject to change |
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poe Member
since 2004-09-06
Posts 180Heading to China 
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My grave stands high The plot is where no one can find My soul is buried under the concrete No more phone calls My face slowly trickles away from their memories Wearing a uniform just to be hidden away from everyone else No more chances to do the right thing I guess it must be three strikes and your out The heart inside my chest gets colder Never did any wrong, just trying to feed my family The price for this though was my life My name appearing in the local newspaper No front page, just stuffed in the back My eyes closed, hands set into a prayer Not even able to contemplate what is going on The darkness does consume Forgotten memories are spoken of A causality of society My only crime was getting caught stealing food for my family Locked away in my 5 by 9 piece of hell (This was an experiment poem, I was trying to create a picture that jail is death and at the same make the reader believe I was discussing my death. I have never actually been to jail so that is why my words for this poem are not all that great.) Tomorrow comes for those who fear it. Today never ends for those who live it. |
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| © Copyright 2005 Poe Wilson - All Rights Reserved | |||
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nakdthoughts Member Laureate
since 2000-10-29
Posts 19200Between the Lines |
The darkness does consume Forgotten memories are spoken of like these lines... I don't believe the price of stealing food would be your life though ...unless a death was involved..(just my thoughts) M |
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SEA 
Moderator
Member Seraphic
since 2000-01-18
Posts 22676with you |
"My face slowly trickles away from their memories" I liked this line and the one Nakdthoughts stated...  |
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