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I don’t- lies- I do
Contributed by
jennyjen
on
Wednesday, 29th February 2012 @ 02:58:39 PM in AEST
Topic:
LostLove
|
(Outside)
Take me how you want
Rude, selfish, overly confident
I don’t care!
Your opinion is yours
You hurting my feelings_ Psh
Please
Let’s be honest. You’re nothing to me.
Talk about me?
I don’t care
At the end of the day, I’m ME!
You dislike me?
I don’t care
I’m still here.
(Inside)
Caught behind closed doors
See my tears
Wishing for all this to end
See my tears
I gave you my all, yet you took me for granted
I do care
Your cruel words torn me apart
I am nothing without you
Please stop!
From my heart you’re everything to me.
Talk about me?
Ouch!
I do care
My heart couldn’t bare anymore
You don’t like me?
I do care
I just can’t survive without you.
Copyright ©
jennyjen
... [
2012-02-29 14:58:39]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: I don’t- lies- I do
(User Rating: 1 )
by Deidra_Carmichael on
Wednesday, 29th February 2012 @ 04:30:28 PM AEST
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Info | Send
a Message)
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Your wonderful writing depicts my feelings I recently harbored in my heart for a former lover. Beautifully written,
Deidra |
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Re: I don’t- lies- I do
(User Rating: 1 )
by Skippa109 on
Thursday, 1st March 2012 @ 04:07:40 PM AEST
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a Message)
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| Oh my! Very well done! What a great way to write a poem! The two contrasting perspectives remind me of the 'expectations/reality' scene from 500 days of summer. |
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Re: I don’t- lies- I do
(User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on
Saturday, 26th May 2012 @ 11:41:19 PM AEST
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a Message)
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Kind of reminds me of everyone, who does not--- but does.
Up front, possibly in the mirror, we objectify, what nonsense, or how absurd, who wants to show paper thinly how we have these feelings, nobody is that bold, until someone is or seems to be through your own eyes. Reminds me of inescapable innocence you accept more than willingly, or might even be most humble to undertake onto, some risk, enough to admit to through, some gesture of some sort, a quiet walk listening and smiling and all the while falling in love.
Then the rude awakening just happens, and it hurts.
It's where stories are made of, what your poem suggests, is
more to transpire isn't even ever capable of, maybe, even with the best of intentions, and from all angles. Remember that.
Thanks --- an old very true true love to me once showed me a lot about myself, and the people I too often took for granted once.
good poem!
Peace! |
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