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-   -   Poems <3 (https://www.menewsha.com/forum/showthread.php?t=70135)

Ankko 10-12-2007 12:07 AM

Poems <3
 
I feel the dark by my side
Not a word that I can hide
It can even take away my pride
One thing it cant take it is my unending heart
I knew that from the very start
For all my loved one I will never part
Like a bullet through my head
Watching you die on that cold stark bed
My heart suddnely stopped
All the vessels in my body popped
You were dead
The last words you said,
Dont let the evil get in your heart
She said that but i already knew that from the start

I like this poem
made it on the spot :3

Ankko 10-12-2007 12:08 AM

Anyone else have a cool poem?

hockeygrl05 10-13-2007 05:12 PM

awww thats cute =3
i have qa poem but it sorta creeps me out a bit.. cuz its sooo gloomy and im not really a gloomy person... its a free verse and only a 9th grade lv. cuz 3we had to do poety books last year =P

No One Knows


Look at the girl
Sitting there in the quiet corner
With her back to the world

How she longs for a mother’s love
A father’s smile
Yet, no one knows she hurts inside

Her lace sweater hides the truth
Those many hours of pain
She lost all hope

She doesn’t tell a soul
Her and her teddy’s secret
No one cares

No trust to give
No love to get
An angel trapped in fate’s hands

Ankko 10-14-2007 01:48 AM

Thats good heres another:

Here that sound?
Like my heart that pounds
Its for you
My love is true

Id fall for a thousand years
Make a million tears
ill do anything for you
Thats all i knew
When you left me It was like a knife in my heart
Like I was dead from the start

Why did we have to part?
Now we pass through each other like silent air
How could this happen?
We were the perfect pair!

wizard5424 10-14-2007 04:16 AM

Twenty years since he fled the hellhound
in Ghostbusters, he ended up here,
mouthing a silent 'help' into the plate-glass
of this million-dollar wine house
I find myself gazing into tonight.

Inside it looks like a scream,
tuxedos juggling entrees and quaint
little suppers for squeamish girls.
The men are all Wall Street to the bone;
plums in their chins, sharkskin wallets,

steel for a spine; it's all summers
at Aspen and condos by the Park.
A silvery gramps in slacks
palms an apple plucked fresh
from the teeth of his parboiled piglet.

I think of Rick Moranis and the dog
and listen for growling subway sounds.
Watching I notice the window
is smudged by my breath; a ghostly ring
mouthing the glass from outside.


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