|
Till I die
by Ginette T BelleHow many times can one write about the same thing?
Till it breaks away from your mind?
Till it commits suicide?
But you know it will never leave
One thought, no a million thoughts
Laced clumsily through your brain
Thoughts that refuse to sleep.
Slicing through the day, so it never runs smoothly
Following at your heels through familiar streets
And it clings because it has nowhere to go
Nowhere to hide for you to be at peace.
How many times can one write about the same thing?
Over and over and over again...
03/11/2003 Posted on 03/11/2003
Copyright © 2025 Ginette T Belle
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Aaron Howard on 09/17/03 at 12:25 AM Nice work.. I have to agree with the point this one makes.. I ask myself the same question about my lost/love poems all the time... How many times can I express this feeling of tenderness without it backfiring on me... |
| Posted by Michele Schottelkorb on 09/20/03 at 11:12 PM this is so incredibly true... look at any poets library and see the repitition of feelings and thouhgts... i call it "writing it out"... you've described this well... blessings... |
| 
