| » Poem: {not titled} plz comment |
{not titled} plz comment
written by darkness_follows_me09:48 AM 3/30/05Four hours can't cure this empty page,
Yearning for pen to touch paper,
To bleed out this emotion
As you or me,
Something in this touching of pen to paper
Is lost in translation,
It bleeds through, finally lost;
Sometimes I yearn to be this blood,
Pooling beneath laborious works of the talented,
Leftover remenants of something that feels
So fucking real.
One missing space in the right place
Can change the meaning of the entire work,
If I was the missing person,
Could I indeed change the entire world?
If I was the pool of blood beneath you,
Could you wipe me away, blur my edges to orange,
To reveal something deeper, more meaningful
Than the paper you view the blood through?
I have no meaning.
I have no substance.
I have no purpose.
Sometimes I want to reach out and become
Something beautiful,
To be so fucking inspiring,
The world will be brought to its knees.
I will be the leftover blood
Draining through the veins in your hand
To create the beautiful pieces of a puzzle.
But the puzzle will always miss one piece
Until I remain no more. |
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This Poem has been viewed 332 times
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| » Comments / Feedback | by wind_wanderer (3-30-2005 - 09:51 AM)
by lesbian?straight?bi? (3-30-2005 - 12:45 PM)
| that was one of the best ever |
by (guest) (3-30-2005 - 08:08 PM)
| that is definitely one of the best poems ive read...you may be one of the next great poets..keep it up. |
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