Open Poetry #6 |
Black |
SorrowsMystress Member
since 2000-04-01
Posts 178I'm a wanderer, a nomad...I don't live in one particular area, Just wherever I end up. |
The clock is slowly ticking....... My eyes are burning, I need some time I need the love I left behind The flowers which bloom inside my soul Are wilting now from heartaches' pull My mind speaks to me from inside I keep running, but have nowhere to hide The pupils intersect with the iris instead Knives are sticking up from my once comfortable bed I dream of you but it doesn't get me far Yet I still always wish upon a star But my wish will never come true Because my only wish was you But now you're gone and so am I Because without you I might as well die The clock has finally stopped...... **I wrote this when I was about 13...so please pardon some of the weird things going on, it was a confusing time for me. "It was my love that did us both to death. " -Sylvia Plath |
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© Copyright 2000 Kimberlee Jones - All Rights Reserved | |||
Cerenity Member Elite
since 2000-02-16
Posts 2637Escondido-California |
Hi SorrowsMystress, All of us have are moments in life were it doesn't seem like life is worth it, but if we give it time it usely works out, plus you were young then. Thanks for the read, Cerenity |
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JamesMichael Member Empyrean
since 1999-11-16
Posts 33336Kapolei, Hawaii, USA |
Seems like you were writing some good poetry when you were 13. I love the line "Knives are sticking from my once comfortable bed". Another way to say you tossed and turned all night? James |
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