I took a step back
Oh, look at me
The writer has spoken
Of a written release
You walked out the door
With the wave of a priest
Only to leave me
With infidelities
The wood is permanently dusted
The particles like stars
Through the deadest of sunlight
I braved the many regards
The shelves washed away
With the sink and spiders
Keeping the webs at bay
The drains had retired
The emptiness, the vastness
The drawers missing key
The halls now unexplored
And the windows can't breath
This sickness, this displacement
A cluttered up mess
I hung my heart on the ceiling fan
Instead of my dress
Look at these hands,
Shrinking sizes too small
For that is my own fault
A hollowed guitar
Leaning against the wall
Strings at a sadness
A breaking of might
The door hasn't been opened since
The hinge is too tight
Dear Writer,
You've broken
This letter is golden
Take me and make me
I lack an indulgence
The mirror has cracked a good bit
And I frowned
But it seems to me,
My reflection is the only person around
The door knob is sodden with rust
To touch would be suicide
But revenge is a must
Footsteps, they quake
My soul at a wrench
The turning is loud
Too loud, my friend
Open, I see
Writer, don't care
The perfect image of you
Stares back at me
How unfair…
Oh, look at me
The writer has spoken
Of a written release
You walked out the door
With the wave of a priest
Only to leave me
With infidelities
The wood is permanently dusted
The particles like stars
Through the deadest of sunlight
I braved the many regards
The shelves washed away
With the sink and spiders
Keeping the webs at bay
The drains had retired
The emptiness, the vastness
The drawers missing key
The halls now unexplored
And the windows can't breath
This sickness, this displacement
A cluttered up mess
I hung my heart on the ceiling fan
Instead of my dress
Look at these hands,
Shrinking sizes too small
For that is my own fault
A hollowed guitar
Leaning against the wall
Strings at a sadness
A breaking of might
The door hasn't been opened since
The hinge is too tight
Dear Writer,
You've broken
This letter is golden
Take me and make me
I lack an indulgence
The mirror has cracked a good bit
And I frowned
But it seems to me,
My reflection is the only person around
The door knob is sodden with rust
To touch would be suicide
But revenge is a must
Footsteps, they quake
My soul at a wrench
The turning is loud
Too loud, my friend
Open, I see
Writer, don't care
The perfect image of you
Stares back at me
How unfair…
Author notes
I would totally write this in my journal. Because I write most of my journal in poetry form. Usually my rhyming isn't so perfect. And it kind of gets on my nerves when it is. Though, I hope you like this. Make of it what you want. And I hope it qualifies to your contest. If not tell me
A contest entry
- Untitled by warrior-eagle.
300 points, ended December 19, 2007, 13 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
I'm thirsty.
Comments
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One of my favorite things about your writes is the rhythm they tend to have. Maybe I should get a journal, then I could write down my thoughts and not forget them all the time!
My other favorite thing is that your words always make me think, and wonder how you come up with such fascinating concepts!
As always dear, amazing expression..
♥
Michele

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Sorry for the late reply buddy :D
MERRY CHRISTMAS
You see my computer had a megaheartattack and decided that it would have to be restored in order to work, ect...ya da ya da. We had a huge discussion, me and my computer. (But I honestly think it was slightly jealous of my new laptop and all, you know how computers can be with competetion.)
Well I actually was thinking of you when I wrote it, I don't know why. LOL. Cause you always comment me with something interesting to say I suppose. lol!
But yes, I actually like this one a good bit myself, mainly cause I had been trying to write how I felt for WEEKS and finally, BAM. Wellllllllll I'M ON MY LAPTOP!! It's neat. Uh, THANKYOU, as always. I love replying to you haha. So I always try to. I don't know where the concepts came from. I swear I think some imaginary guy hovers over me reciting random lines. So give him the credit. Pah. We'll call him Larry.
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Writer, don't care
The perfect image of you
Stares back at me
Yeah,it does qualify seeming how you said in your author's note that you basicly write like this.
I don't know much about rhyming am sorry,
but yeah,thanks.
and this was a good write.
...Simply Me♥ -
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thhkssssssssssss
Happy holidays!
~Rynn~
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