words know no scorn,
as they vanish from the lines,
of the deepest treasures,
we do cherish this day.
held hostage in this world,
our minds see fit to use the knowledge,
and the creativity,
of what we bare to be grace.
and sometimes,
though usually alone,
we lament these thoughts and tears,
onto the bitter page of a battered notebook,
filled more with sketchs,
than any "creative" work.
we are alone,
alone in our mind,
thoughts and fears,
years go by so suddenly,
without any warning or distaste.
how I wish,
and can see in your eyes,
that you wish to,
just to be remembered.
Exhumed from the pages,
of a diary you forgot you had hidden,
under the floor boards in your bedroom,
or the staircase in your house.
Or perhaps tucked under your pillow,
so you may dream of what you read,
but to just have a memory,
of the past days we had lived.
And so to be guide,
or even a prophet to those who believe,
we are indeed exhumed,
from every book we read.
But a part of everything,
and nothing goes to waste,
dear diary I do plead,
don't forget me.
Author notes
i think it is quite obvious why i have chosen my screen name. if you have questions, send me an IM.
A contest entry
- WHAT'S IN YOUR AP NAME OR IMAGE???? by dustookie2.
3500 points, ended July 22, 2007, 25 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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This was awesome work! It was consistant in rythm. I remember writing in a dairy...that's what got me writing. Great memories..back when we now think was "simple"
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I can admire people who keep a diary or journal of their life to recall memories or events that happened or helped to shape them into the person they are today. Names and faces lost through the years you will have within the pages of your books.
thank you for the pleasure.
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Good Luck!!!
A very good name indeed! I like the poem a lot.
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