Category: Writers Block
She’s a pretty girl, such a seemingly sweet girl yet there’s something growing with in those hollow veins. She smiles so sweetly. Isn’t her voice so light? But there’s a shred of evil in her heart. Her laughter chimes like silver bells as she passes you gracefully by. And in her hand she clutches the memory, a single piece of shattered glass. Isn’t the symbol just captivating?
A cloud of misty tainted breath escapes her blood red lips. A wistful sigh is carried forth on the cold unforgiving wind. Before the dawn, she sings so softly, her voice breaking with the silent tears. To the Sun she holds the shattered glass to look into the light.
And as you rock back and forth, staring up at the moonless night, you wonder if God is real and if he is then where is he? And is he such a holy king? What right have you to ask these questions? You who’ve done nothing of remote goodness.
It’s all not real it’s all not real. It‘s just a dream now sound your scream across the bloody battle field. Raise your spade and scream that name and release your fear and pain with abandon.
Her lilting words fool you don’t they? She’s gotten very good at that you know. It’s like weaving a pretty gossamer thread into a brick wall covered in lude graffiti. Bring out your cash and place your bet, you know you’ll surely win. How could you lose with someone like her? It’s nearly impossible, or so they say.
Come write your message with chalk or pen and leave your mark behind.
Color a pretty picture now so your mommy and daddy will be proud. And if you stay inside the predrawn lines, you’ll get a kiddy surprise. Nothing short of perfection is ever good enough. So you’d better not fuck it up!
Before the dawn, she sings so softly, her weak voice breaking as she cries for you. Curled up tightly in a ball, she hugs her knees and tries so damned hard to forget what all has happened. And in the rain she walks with head uplifted, letting the falling angel tears cleanse her heart. Brave the look into that hated mirror, and see if you see her within your own image.
hahah brilliant me, forgot the subject. I wasn't sure what to call it though, anyway
Glad you put the last line in: I was looking for some symbolism about the zone etc. and not finding it.
It's a good poem, I like your use of 'phrases such as "falling angel tears". Very evokitive.
Bob
thanks Bob. I like reading your replies to my work