I have a little poem to share
and it doesn't matter if you care,
but I will tell it anyway
in hopes that it will live one day.

It's not a deep poem
about hate or war.
It doesn't involve greed,
that's not what this is for.
Death isn't there, but neither is life.
I wouldn't mention murder,
no bullet, no blood-soaked knife.

Yet, there's a feeling,
a certain emotion you'd share-
a dream that one day
you'll walk on air,
and perhaps you'll breathe again, dear friend,
before tomorrow when it all might end.

Crimson colored heart
fluttering above,
one day, just once,
you'll feel that love.
Someone truly beautiful,
inside at least,
someone who'd listen,
who'd conquer the beasts.
If you found someone
who'd never quiet you down,
or someone who'd make all the pain drown,
then you'd truly be alive,
just this one time.

Now you'll say you're grand,
but nobody's fooled
and you'll say there's no hope,
but that means you're blind;
your heart's wrapped and it's twined
around despair.

Live your own life,
sand fills soft tunes,
remember the stories of faded afternoons.
Know that just once your tea bags were used
and that little red dress was not being abused.
You exclaim that now the world is your own
and say you're just fine
being alone;
since that would be your perfect life.

Slow walks, one shadow,
your pearl earring gone,
you have all the time in the world to sing,
but you only chant wistful songs.
And while you think
everything's all right,
that would be your perfect lie.

09/17/2005

Author's Note: I'm not even really sure what this is. It kinda makes me annoyed when I read it, but hey, it got some emotions out.

Posted on 09/19/2005
Copyright © 2024 Rebecca Lin