| » Poem: My book of release |
My book of release
written by IceBound04:11 PM 12/9/04This pencil in my hand
the repeatative left to right motion
as my thoughts form into words
the smell of marker rising from the edges
words assembled neatly throughout
on these little blue lines
they twist, and turn, yearning for more
like fuel to the fire
i live to give
they to now satisfied
the smell, like burnt rubber
as the eraser gets smaller and smaller
the lead of this pencil is running out
only so many pages left to write in
the only thing that calls to me
from beyond this void
i hear it...
but she doesn't call to me anymore
was it the pain?
was it this book?
was it the words
words to lies?
yet another mislead figure
my words form these pages
my thoughts, only to be
feelings only felt, when writing about me
i hate the fact that the only thing i have left
beats down on her broken heart
why do yo think i never speak of it?
i hide behind these words of discomfort
they bring release... |
All (c)Copyrights reserved by the Original Author.
Author's footnotes and comments on this Poem:
thoughts before 12-8-04
[ View IceBound's Profile ] [ Go to the Poetry Portal ]
This Poem has been viewed 357 times
|
|
|
|
