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As my pencil wears down.
Contributed by
huwbeauty
on
Saturday, 5th February 2011 @ 05:03:43 AM in AEST
Topic:
anguished
|
The source of my poetry,
Is unknown to me,
Of that there's no doubt,
It comes to me,
Just like a dream,
Just like an anguished shout.
How I wish I could sing ,
Of flowers in spring,
The beauty of things,
But I'm stuck in this cage,
I'm bound to this page,
It's thick with my rage,
A retort to life's bitter sting.
So as my pencil wears down,
I read back with a frown,
And shudder at,
Seeing me.
And tonight I see,my right to be,
Is entangled not free,
In a web of my own making,
And now the clock on the wall,
Has sung it's last toll,
I feel my foundations shaking,
Torn sunlight abounds,
And clarifies the sound,
Of my reality breaking.
Copyright ©
huwbeauty
... [
2011-02-05 05:03:43]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: As my pencil wears down.
(User Rating: 1 )
by xbabycyutie on
Saturday, 5th February 2011 @ 06:41:30 AM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
Good writing
This poem was really deep and heartfelt
Keep writing :)
Always,
xbabycyutie |
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Re: As my pencil wears down.
(User Rating: 1 )
by Voyager on
Saturday, 5th February 2011 @ 07:17:15 AM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
| Very well written poem. Had a wonderful flow and a sense of certainty of expresssion......well done. |
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