Poem #1
Can you
would you
could you
save me?
Would you ever
dare to leave me?
Helpless
broken
left unmended.
In my mind your illusion is branded.
Spit this venom through your teeth,
this toxic air you make me breath.
A monster,
creature left for dead.
Off of miserable souls you have fed.
You're what goes bump in the middle of the night,
no matter how hard I try,
I always end up fleeing the fight.
But not this time,
I won't I swear.
I'm better off when you're not here.
I hate you Temptation,
I hate your infectuous ways.
Causing people harsh troubles
and the cruel price that they pay.
You infect each person,
only the strong willed survive.
You're not going to stop,
are you?
Atleast not until there is no one left alive.
Temptation is calling,
hear its whistle blowing.
All I ask of you is to
save me from Temptation...
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ok i know this poem already exists, but i created it ( yes this is flyleafet9) this is one of my favorites that i have written, and i am considering sending it in for a contest, although winning is very unlikely...
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Misery and sadness,
pain and yearning.
All seem never ending.
I write down my thoughts,
with hopes of cleansing my conscience.
In my mind these words are burning.
The pen flies across the page.
I fill page after page, each one revealing a new personality.
The last page comes to an end,
and hopefully my tainted heart it will mend,
but no, I am left crying.
A tear rolls off my cheek
and onto the page.
It seeps in and wrinkles the paper,
leaving an ugly gray colour.
I close my eyes and picture it all:
If was faced with death,
would I greet it warmly?
I dont know,
says a life not worth living.
I reach torwards the blade,
and toy with it.
I admire how it can silence.
I glance in the mirror.
What am I doing?
What is wrong with me?
I drop the blade,
as if it were a hot piece of coal.
What happened to the little girl,
the one who couldn't stop smiling?
Why can't I be her,
forget all that I've known and seen?
But sadly, this is me.
Face it or live regretting it.
You've changed,
many have said to me.
I have changed,
and I hate it.
My eyes water up and tears spill over my cheeks.
I look back down at the stain page.
Odd.
The once ugly gray spatter is now a faint blue.
I now understand why people connect the colour blue with sorrow.
My mental stability stands like a peice of thread,
a single piece trying to support a brick.
This brick containing all of the wrong doings,
will it lighten or diseapear?
Will it stop growing?
Who knows.
Only the future can tell...
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