Tightly you held
Onto dreams
Woven onto the fabric
Of your passions
Products of your confessions
Printed on paper
Your scrawling rhyme
Meaning nothing
In the bitter end
Someday, you said
My sacrifices
Would pay off big
I would regret
Not believing in your
Fanciful visions of
Far fetched
Stardom under the lights
My anger, contained
I survive
Hating what you were
Nothing you promised
Came to be true
You left me
Holding keys
To storerooms of lies
What you are
Is gone
A waste of talent
Given to addictions
You would not discard
All I needed
Was you
To simply love me
Rise, I will
Far away
From this infected reality
Not giving you
The satisfaction in death
That I am
Just below
Everything you strived for.
Author notes
If this was spelled out in a tune, I think Pink would be my only choice.
A contest entry
- Asleep In The Arms Of Anger by Redrusty66.
500 points, ended May 6, 2008, 15 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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Again, nicely done
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Great work, such interesting and unique wordplay. It created a nice atmosphere for multiple personal perspectives. Haunting message, to be just below what someone else strives for is a harsh reality to digest.
Great emtional piece, thanks for the great read.
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