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Author Topic: Mirockinstar's Bad Poetry...  (Read 1731 times)
Adept Member
Last Login:May 11, 2011, 02:35:41 pm
United States United States

Religion: Existence
Posts: 827

Blog entries (4)

« Topic Start: July 24, 2007, 01:43:55 pm »

Well seeing how everyone else has stepped up to the plate and shared their work I suppose I should too. You are warned, I'm a drawing artist and write  poetry merely for Apollo's sake, so this should be humorous...

The soft strum of his fingers against the strings,
Perfectly in time, in tune with the universe,
His instrument a part of him, skin so like the honeyed wood,
A voice to match his pristine music,

To hear his melodies, you would stand in awe,
While his melancholy harmonies could bring a house on it’s knees,
I listen to him with a face of stone,
The only one not cheering, not proclaiming my love,
Because he knows and to say it aloud might break our private spell,


This one was odd for me, it's almost like a rap...

Pray for me and I’ll pray for you,
We’ll walk through that last door,
Two by two,
My hand in yours, yours in mine,
When the birds stop singing
At the end of time,
I want to look you in the eye,
See you smiling back at me,
Know that this time it’ll be alright,
No more crying
No more fighting
I want to be so close to you,
Feel your breath on my face,
Hear your heartbeat in your chest,
Touch that skin of perfect stone,
I want to be the person I was before,
Need to know that place I lived,
Want to be more,
Your lover,
A mother,
A Wisewoman,
A fool,
No longer a sinner,
No longer a tool,
A person I am proud of,
Who loves her kids,
Looks back on the life she lived,
And thinks she did a fine good job,
A damn good life,
Be proud of me, I’ll be proud of you,
My lover, My friend
Too you I’ll be true,
When we walk through that door,
Two by two,
You’ll love me, and I’ll love you,


At first you hardly notice it,
The pain of their abcense,
They are coming back, they’ll be home soon,
As the days slide by in slow motion,
It begins to dawns on you,
Maybe they won’t come back,
You hear tales of those who are left behind,
Who grow bitter and old alone,
Have they left you?
And you begin to question your faith,
Maybe the affection was thought up,
Maybe it was all in your head,
Did you tie them to yourself?
And it breaks your heart,
Because all you can do is wait…


 I have a secret I share with only my love,
A secret no friend nor family member shall ever hear,
Because it is a secret we alone share,
And we alone may whisper those words in the dark,
Though our peers may see it on our sleeves,

This secret we had once thought dead,
Murdered coldly by our own egotism, and bitter anger,
Forgotten in the haste to satisfy selfish needs,
It rose like the phoenix from the cold ashes,
A haunting murmur of a still breathing flame,

But our bridges have been burnt,
There will be no happy reunion,
Only passing memories of merrier times,
When we both danced in the sun,
And our secret was a secret only to us,

If you don't have anything nice to say don't say it...


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