Forgive me if I'm out of lines,
forgive me if I'm out of lies,
watch him come out like a cat out of
a well,
(that's a cat hell)
Oh well,
you can take it with a grain of salt,
don't spill,
don't get ill on your birthday,
But if you don't feel like cake,
I could save it for your wake.
I've got nothing to say,
pale face, feverish grace,
if you do die,
I won't ask why,
but don't forget to write.
Don't forget to tell them all the truth,
we'll come out,
like a cat out of a washing machine,
dead, probably.
A contest entry
- Forcast for Tomorrow a few sprinkles of Genius with a chance of Doom! by eyes of the sea..
370 points, ended March 11, 2007, 9 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
This poem is awesome. I love it. Very sad though and somewhat you seem very distant to the person it is written for.
"Forgive me if I'm out of lines,
forgive me if I'm out of lies,"
Them two lines are so great, so simple but so forceful.
You have a beautiful writting talent!
Thank you again! I enjoyed this poem even more than the last! -
weird
weird but cool! sry if my comments r brief, i got dumped last night, lol. This will be a tough contest to judge~
~kenz~
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