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do you like my poetry?
- Thread starter xXRavenXx
- Start date
X
xxnataliee
Guest
(just let me know what you think please)
jan 29, 2008-
snow falling like floating clouds
driffting, sailing above my head
creating a dizzying space of dreams
and a desire i cannot describe
wishing for a glimpse of he colour red
like your soft lips i came to adore
in contrast the brightness of the
white snow
nobody in sight, not even a crow
in the deep snow, i decide
to inscribe
the name of my true love etched
in my heart
the cotton continues to fall into
my hands
these small particles of fluff
forming into cold ice
ulitmately decide to keep us apart.
snow
with your softness you
caress my face
with your brightness you
shatter my eyes
you have the power of creating
within my shifting moods
sometimes laughter and
often tears
i love your most magical
touch
when you choose to be white fluff
but then as with everything
there is always a price
as you choose to leave
me and transform
into ice
melting slowly out of my life.
melting, slowly out of my life.
am i crazy?
when the world spins frantically out
of control
with an accompanying frenzy of emotions
and thoughts
when everything appears normal one
day but not the next
it becomes difficult to conveieve
that i'm anything but crazy
perhaps it is just my imaginatinon
but did someone paint the city grey?
instead i really would prefer the
colour red
with spinning thoughts racing through
my head
there is not much i can do to
find peace
except to sit quietly and pray
it is as if i'm sitting on a
merry-go-round
where there is an empy, dizzying
and disorienting space
yet the outside world seems so still
i found that to be so profound
even the moon peaking out
from behind the cloud
creates a glare that is hard to see
as if to say, "how could this even
be allowed?"
i'm not sure if i prefer damp or nights
brightness of the sun shatters
my eyes
i tend to feel overwhelmed by
city lights
and never at peace when i sleep
or rise
the colour of the day is always a big surprise
of course there is a drive for perfection
that swirls me towards the edge
so far it appears i have not
fallen off the ledge
all i ask is this simple question
when i see lips moving only
to hear the muffled sounds
is that normal or am i crazy?
this is not actually my poetry
i found pages ripped from a notebook or diary in a garbage can of a public washroom. felt compelled to pull them out, and im glad i did.
jan 29, 2008-
snow falling like floating clouds
driffting, sailing above my head
creating a dizzying space of dreams
and a desire i cannot describe
wishing for a glimpse of he colour red
like your soft lips i came to adore
in contrast the brightness of the
white snow
nobody in sight, not even a crow
in the deep snow, i decide
to inscribe
the name of my true love etched
in my heart
the cotton continues to fall into
my hands
these small particles of fluff
forming into cold ice
ulitmately decide to keep us apart.
snow
with your softness you
caress my face
with your brightness you
shatter my eyes
you have the power of creating
within my shifting moods
sometimes laughter and
often tears
i love your most magical
touch
when you choose to be white fluff
but then as with everything
there is always a price
as you choose to leave
me and transform
into ice
melting slowly out of my life.
melting, slowly out of my life.
am i crazy?
when the world spins frantically out
of control
with an accompanying frenzy of emotions
and thoughts
when everything appears normal one
day but not the next
it becomes difficult to conveieve
that i'm anything but crazy
perhaps it is just my imaginatinon
but did someone paint the city grey?
instead i really would prefer the
colour red
with spinning thoughts racing through
my head
there is not much i can do to
find peace
except to sit quietly and pray
it is as if i'm sitting on a
merry-go-round
where there is an empy, dizzying
and disorienting space
yet the outside world seems so still
i found that to be so profound
even the moon peaking out
from behind the cloud
creates a glare that is hard to see
as if to say, "how could this even
be allowed?"
i'm not sure if i prefer damp or nights
brightness of the sun shatters
my eyes
i tend to feel overwhelmed by
city lights
and never at peace when i sleep
or rise
the colour of the day is always a big surprise
of course there is a drive for perfection
that swirls me towards the edge
so far it appears i have not
fallen off the ledge
all i ask is this simple question
when i see lips moving only
to hear the muffled sounds
is that normal or am i crazy?
this is not actually my poetry
i found pages ripped from a notebook or diary in a garbage can of a public washroom. felt compelled to pull them out, and im glad i did.