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Twenty-Seven

Contributed by AngryBunny on Monday, 12th May 2003 @ 03:35:00 AM in AEST
Topic: SadPoetry

Like a child, I build castles from within the sand
And swoosh down slides
And dangle from the gym
The hands of the clock tick away at my leisure
It is dark and there are shadows
Many memories dance about
I soar weightlessly upon the swing
Leaning back with my mouth catching air
Soaking in breezes and every wind, allowing my hair to sail
I gaze into the night
And wonder at the silver points of heaven
I cease from my nostalgia
And point my hands up into the evening

One, two, three, four…

I spin about as I number them

Ten, eleven, twelve...

My neck aches and my eyes begin to weep
This cannot be true; it is far too surreal

Twenty, twenty-one…

I fall to my knees and begin to count again
But the same number reappears
Making greater sense than the time before
My heart wails
My soul is sobbing
Because there are only twenty-seven stars in the night time sky

My mother tells that there is a Milky Way
Where light is endless
in places where you would speculate to see only obscurity
And it is assumed to trail beyond the horizon
A mere fairy tale to me
There is no such thing
I can only find twenty-seven of the thousand stars that are suppose to be

Perhaps they all succumbed to gloom
The beauty faded, as people moved on
Moved on to stare at other wonders
Wonders that will be forgotten, just like the stars
No one must be concerned that there are so few
I can only hear my own cries as they dim out
I keep counting and hoping, dreaming, wishing for more than this

But there are still only twenty-seven stars in the time night time sky

Copyright Â© AngryBunny ... [ 2003-05-12 03:35:00]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: Twenty-Seven (User Rating: 1 )
by tease_whizz on Saturday, 31st May 2003 @ 02:23:02 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

this is a really unique idea - i like the mixture of sadness and nostalgia with the imagery of the stars. excellent metaphors and i like the way you hint at a longing for something more. great poem, keep them coming, Kate x

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