iChaz
06-01-2010, 08:37 AM
some poems I wrote a few months ago, they're based on empathy, things I witness and things I experience... please tell me what you think :-) I know I can be a little wreckless with grammar so please give me any corrections lol thanks x
Parting
- I am parting now.
Secrets served better to insects rest in a shattered mind,
I fall, I drop, I gasp.
As the hollow mind of one no one knows and ever will know; fades out.
The sharp, eerie, airy, sound of a soul whispering. Escape.
Transcend from budding flower, to forgotten, rotten dead.
Dead, dead, dead.
Wishful second inwhich there is hope, collide.
Collision unravelling a tale, from the now distant past.
Where friends, family, people he love carve a silver bullet
from the finest, finest silver.
Doom is assured. They don't know it yet, he senses it,
but they don't know.
This bullet materialise: Taunt. Jabber. Insensitivity.
The work has been done by them.
A life that lay... once... alive stunned and stopped.
All in a days work, they think.
Oh do they?
Until I depart.
My life doesn't need a running commentary
- Gasp of a lonely lamb, not of a lonely wolf, cried out, silent.
Along the gaping corridor; which had no name, and was all but safe.
"You're a loser"
Shuffle along the very bottom deck
of a torturous,
continuous,
Demise.
This be all I have to hold dear? I lear...
as there critical eyes, analyse, what seemed to be, just me.
No doubt just me was what they wanted, they pout.
And the snigger of a poorly hidden truth rendered him weak;
They don't care, and the effort you had gone through to be one of them,
even though you detest them, to face your fear, worthless.
Who wants to fit in. Not me.
Was the parental belief, that tried so hard to seap into bullied bones.
The whaling, uncomprimising, not failing.
You don't understand him;
only those who've had their countenance stretched to its limits by them do, those who have made the futile attempts to be "somebody", and failed,
pathetically. Denigrated.
Do you understand him now?
Parting
- I am parting now.
Secrets served better to insects rest in a shattered mind,
I fall, I drop, I gasp.
As the hollow mind of one no one knows and ever will know; fades out.
The sharp, eerie, airy, sound of a soul whispering. Escape.
Transcend from budding flower, to forgotten, rotten dead.
Dead, dead, dead.
Wishful second inwhich there is hope, collide.
Collision unravelling a tale, from the now distant past.
Where friends, family, people he love carve a silver bullet
from the finest, finest silver.
Doom is assured. They don't know it yet, he senses it,
but they don't know.
This bullet materialise: Taunt. Jabber. Insensitivity.
The work has been done by them.
A life that lay... once... alive stunned and stopped.
All in a days work, they think.
Oh do they?
Until I depart.
My life doesn't need a running commentary
- Gasp of a lonely lamb, not of a lonely wolf, cried out, silent.
Along the gaping corridor; which had no name, and was all but safe.
"You're a loser"
Shuffle along the very bottom deck
of a torturous,
continuous,
Demise.
This be all I have to hold dear? I lear...
as there critical eyes, analyse, what seemed to be, just me.
No doubt just me was what they wanted, they pout.
And the snigger of a poorly hidden truth rendered him weak;
They don't care, and the effort you had gone through to be one of them,
even though you detest them, to face your fear, worthless.
Who wants to fit in. Not me.
Was the parental belief, that tried so hard to seap into bullied bones.
The whaling, uncomprimising, not failing.
You don't understand him;
only those who've had their countenance stretched to its limits by them do, those who have made the futile attempts to be "somebody", and failed,
pathetically. Denigrated.
Do you understand him now?