Open Poetry #36 |
The Song Unfit to Sing |
Edward Grim Senior Member
since 2005-12-18
Posts 1154Greenville, South Carolina |
The Song Unfit to Sing The splintered black veins Trickled down the crippled paper. Creating streams of meaningless words That harmonized well with the emptiness in my heart. Like the bone white walls In this hell born heaven I call home. The barren white walls, Like the ones in my soul. The woe begotten brethren Of canters lined up once again Just to sing me a song. And to hum it till no end. The black splash of ink Upon these white walls Is only a song too sad to chant. Writing that hinders me, That bars me from this turbulent reality. This heaven, This hell, This hindrance in my home. It’s all me, It’s all just… A song of melodious melancholy. |
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© Copyright 2006 Edward Grant - All Rights Reserved | |||
Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Much enjoyed this very well written piece. Chris Poetry is an echo, asking a shadow to dance. |
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Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049California |
But Edward...you sang it so well! So much of poetry speaks of unhappiness and darkness of spirit. I think you wrote that, and wrote it well! Art cannot be good unless it's honest. |
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loved_and_redeemed Junior Member
since 2006-01-03
Posts 22BC, Canada |
I loved the contrast of black and white, it made the words jump into reality. Your words seem raw and I feel like I can relate to your frustratioin. Beautiful |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
Wonderful imagery...much enjoyed the read. Hugs~Nancy In the midst of winter, |
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