Category: Writers Block
these are two poems tht I wrote two years ago.
hope every onel ikes them.
the format wil lbe a little messed up, but if you go and put a return after every comma, or so... it shoudl work otu.
here goes
The sun sinks down in an endless sky,
the sea is so far below,
I cannot hang on for much longer,
oh gods, will I die tonight?
Then I hear the voice,
calling me by name,
is it the goddess herself?
Or is it my death?
Hanging on,
by the rocks to which I cling,
my hands are starting to slip,
is this my end?
Is this all I have left?
The sea seems to call to me,
like a soothing whisper in my brain,
can I hold on for much longer?
Gods, is this my reality?
The baron rocks beneath my tender young fingers,
cut at me mirthlessly,
and the sky seems to pull at me,gently, gently,
slowly, softly.
The white foam of the sea calls to me,
coating my desperately clinging feet with moisture.
I hear her voice again,
low, soothing,
tender, soft.
Is it you, great goddess?
Or is it my death that calls to me,
like a babe in a cradle?
Will she listen?
When I scream her name?
Or will she leave me to grieve?
To know not the truth?
Will she abandon me,
in my time of need,
or will she cradle me,
for all time.
An amethyst, I see in the stone.
My heart seems to drop.
It is the stone of passion,
the stone of love, purity,--
Still I dare not move,
for if I should,
the rocks will slip away,
like water through silken cloth.
And I shall fall,
to my death below.
The Lady calls her followers,
the stars begin to shine,
will she listen to my cries?
Or will she leave me to die?
The stars seem to pierce me,
I speak to them in the wind,
"Blessed be is the Lady of Magic,"
are the words I say to them.
My heart begins to slow,
my breathing shallow and ragged,
I give a cry,
my final cry,
before the fever and pain take over my mind.
the other one..
What do they see,
when they look into my eyes?
What do you see,
when you touch my hands?
When I take hold of your arm,
What do you sense?
The pain? The grief?
The hurt and the hollowness?
When you look into my eyes,
I think you feel pain,
you feel your heart rip,
as you stare into me.
Do you feel the pain?
The pain of a hidden illness?
Do you see?
See the millions of promises broken?
See the very few kept?
When I cling to you,
cling to you physically,
Do you feel me?
Feel the pain?
Your eyes of emeralds,
your hair of the sun and earth,
Can you feel me?
When you take my hands,
and speak to me,
Do you feel it?
Can you sense it?
Sense the pain?
The agony?
The wretched heartbeats?
Shall I fight it?
Or flow with the ebb and flow of her currents?
How do you know?
Do you truly know me?
For who I am?
Or do you know the shell,
the shell of me?
Into the realms of my own mind,
will you follow me?
Or leave me to grieve?
Will you turn your back on me?
Or will you cradle me?
Will you take me into your arms?
Or will you simply cast me aside?
Will you accept me for who I am?
or cast me away like a lonely child?
Into the dirt and dust of the mess,
of this world we have made?
Born with heaven in their eyes,
with a God given right?
Into the mess of this earth.
Why do you reject me?
Will you even listen to me,
or turn your back on me?
Why do you hide behind the veil,
the veil of shrewdness and anger?
Why do you not listen?
When I silently cry for help?
Why do they reject me?
And only you listen?
Why must I try so hard?
To mingle with others?
When the only ones I can mingle with,
are you and another teacher?
I hear their cries,
I feel their pain,
They must live!
Why don't you help them?
"We're doing our best,"
Oh that's what they all say.
Why do you ignore them?
Those who need it most?
I see the families,
grieving every day.
You are in that ignored group,
the group for which there is no cure.
I feel the uncertainty they feel,
I feel the torture they feel,
each day it is a struggle,
to make it through another.
Why do they ignore me?
When I try so hard?
I tried everything to fit in,
but I just don't seem to click.
Ah yes, I'll fight for you,
I'll fight with all my strength,
to find a cure,
to make it go away,
to make sure you'll live,
throughout the ages.
I'll fight for them,
to see them walk and talk again,
they're not alone,
you're not alone.
Why am I fed lies?
When I tell the truth?
My own father lies to me,
but you tell me the truth.
I seem not to get the concept,
of why I am misunderstood,
but whatever it is,
I wish I would be told.
I am not an idiot,
nor am I an android,
But I am a human,
and that is my God-given right.
Why am I their punching bag?
Why do they think they have the right to use me?
To abuse me?
To force me to do things I never want to do?
To treat me like a slave?
To tell me I am lying when I speak the truth?
To lie to me, hold things back,
to kill my spirit?
What will it take,
for people to listen to me?
What will it take,
for me to be me?
For me to be normal?
How many times must I hurt?
Must I be harmed?
For me to be listened to?
When you look into my eyes,
what do you see?
When you speak to me,
What do you hear in my voice?
Do you sense the agony?
The silent pain?
The fear?
Can you sense it all?
Do you even hear my silent words?
Or do you turn away from me?
Do you give me the cold shoulder?
Or do you cradle me?
It is all I really ask,
is just to be listened to.
tailor
there are grate poems. i really felt i was clinging on to the rocks! i must show you mine next time we're both on messenger
Very good and vividly described.
vividly described. that's how I was taught to write. the lasto ne is to a former teacher of mine. smile