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Time

Contributed by Jontee24 on Monday, 24th May 2010 @ 11:11:03 AM in AEST
Topic: LostLove

Eleven. Your eyes meet mine. I shy away but you pursue me. A strong hand on my shoulder
Twelve. My first kiss. Of your warm lips.
Still twelve. Kind messages on my phone make rosy cheeks
Thirteen. Was I ready to leave behind that white garment?
Still thirteen. What are the tears for? Oh yea. You made me cry. Chocolate and roses… of course I forgive you
Fourteen. Counting backward from ten. Slice. Rip. Tear. Cut. That life is gone.
Still fourteen. Two days no call. Five days no call. Seven days no call. Nine days. Where is my love? Your love?
Fifteen. Do kind words even exist anymore? Gone is your touch. Gone is your kiss. Gone is your voice. Gone is you.
Sixteen. Who is she? Does it matter? Is she prettier than I?
Seventeen. Shattered. Smashed. Shredded. Destroyed. That thing called a heart… haven’t heard it’s beat in a while
Still seventeen. Empty is all I feel. Weep is all I do. Heart is all I feel. Everything is what you took.

Jontee24, PLEASE: To help keep this site INTERACTIVE, please read and comment on at least 3 poems for each one you submit.

Copyright Â© Jontee24 ... [ 2010-05-24 11:11:03]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: Time (User Rating: 1 )
by iodinelove on Monday, 24th May 2010 @ 09:36:10 PM AEST
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Do me a favor. Come back to this poem many years from now...at least five years. Give it five years and open it up and read it and read it again, and then write it again. You'll be amazed at how much has changed.

One should not leave the heart to its own devices, especially the young heart.

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Poetry is much like a great photo, a single "moment in time" capturing many feelings and emotions. Yet, they are very alive; creating stirrings within the readers who form visual "pictures" of the expressed emotions within the Poem. Â©

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