OK, three more poems coming up;
Chosen Part 1
It feels odd, not being the other woman,
Looking out at the other woman,
Watching her struggle,
Fight with her feelings, desperation,
It overflows into my space,
Makes me feel like, I'm the bad guy,
I don't know why,
But I know I've got to try,
Not to make the other woman,
Feel, like the other woman.
Chosen Part 2
It feels strange, becoming the shunted woman,
Looking out at the new model,
Watching her glow,
She's fighting with feelings of satisfaction,
It overflows into my space,
Makes me feel like, I'm not good enough.
I wonder why?
Don't want to cry,
I stare, and try to work out what she's got,
That maybe I don't.
Oh, I know now,
She has him.
(I wrote these two separately, they kind of coincided with certain occurences right here on KMC, but I figured if I put them together then it would be easier for you guys to use them. Or you could even do them separately, I don't suppose it matters. Just draw them how you perceive them I guess).
Just A Phase
I rise and rub my eyes,
Another day, another chance to die.
Hope coarses through my veins,
Warms my heart, yet feels so strange.
Why do I wish for closure?
I don't understand why I'm here,
Maybe that's the reason for wanting it over.
I could help it along,
No-one would ever be any the wiser.
Like they'd notice,
A little voice in the depths of me,
Always talking, always urging,
Why do I have this other side?
'Conflicting emotions' they called it.
As far as I'm concerned,
I'm suicidal.
The sooner someone notices that,
The sooner I can get on with my life.
Instead of wanting it to come to an end.
Vampyr
Darkness alights, suffocating the skies,
Time stands still once more.
I walk alone, sounds sweep over me,
No wind, nothing touches my pale skin.
I try to recall the sun on my face,
Impossible, a far away place,
Where the warmth was once felt.
I shiver, more a reaction to lack of memory,
For I feel not a thing, clinically dead.
Eternity ahead,
I long to breathe again, to inhale the sweet aromas of life.
To taste something other than death.
Acceptance is my next step,
My fate sealed as I roam the Earth.
But I am strength personified,
For I am the undead, nor alive, it's a confusing state.
I know not what runs through my veins,
Nor do I care,
I am neither here nor there,
Always in one place and yet in another.
I walk on.........
OK guys, all done for a while 😄
It's a teenage boy standing in fornt of a bathroom mirror. He has his head hung low, and the veiw is from behind. In his reflection, his medium length hair covers his eyes, and the shadow covers the rest of his face. He is leaning his weight on his arms, which are on the edge of the sink, where next to his left hand there is a trickle of blood(the only bit of color in the whole peice), and a razor.
A description is all I can give. I hope I can eventually get both 'poetry personifications' up on here.
Originally posted by Arachnoidfreak
It's a teenage boy standing in fornt of a bathroom mirror. He has his head hung low, and the veiw is from behind. In his reflection, his medium length hair covers his eyes, and the shadow covers the rest of his face. He is leaning his weight on his arms, which are on the edge of the sink, where next to his left hand there is a trickle of blood(the only bit of color in the whole peice), and a razor.A description is all I can give. I hope I can eventually get both 'poetry personifications' up on here.
cry
I had a picture of this when I wrote it, except it was a chick.........
No Longer Pure..
Against the darkest background,
Fiery red eyes lit the night.
Her body starts to tremble,
Overtaken by her fright.
A scratching noise so loud,
Scrapes at the paving stone.
Whispered words of hatred,
Reminds her she is all alone.
Clench her eyes tightly shut,
She gasps desperately for air.
And slowly as her eyes open,
She screams at the nightmare.
Blood red eyes stare at her,
Skin peeling off each second.
Boney fingers long and black,
To him they did beckon.
The clean air she once breathed,
Had turned so poisoned cold.
Eyelids fighting to stay awake,
To the devil her soul was sold.
And with his black red mouth,
He placed it to her lips.
Sucking out her pure soul,
Placing a nightmare kiss.
Black bone fingers sliding down,
Tracing her every curve.
She had become his evening meal,
To him she had been served.
Hands flitting across her thighs,
Then scraping across her ribs.
And as he ripped away the skin,
Blood drew from blood pen nibs.
In the dark of the evening night,
He left her on the floor.
Telling the cold dead body,
What she had had been so pure..
Written by Ash aka Delicious1
You guys can use this poem to draw your impressions too.
I enjoy reading poetry.
Acutally, I love reading them in The Poety Thread that is already in existence.
😉