tonite I read your poetry
and filled up deep inside
time and again my tears fell
at thought of things I write
sometimes so sorrowful
and oft I think im pleased
but here in tears of all your feelings
l im like a void inside
I know I feel the passion
to show my world inside
but your pain your colours
your verve and lust
overpowers how I write
but nonetheless I cannot stop
I have to let this out
its here in me and it needs to be
outside and cast about
for in my street and in the store
you'll never see what's me
until I open up my shelf
and you read my poetry
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Author:
dusk arising (
Offline) - Published: September 23rd, 2019 00:38
- Comment from author about the poem: Something from a few years ago.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 65
- Users favorite of this poem: Poetic Dan
Offline)
Comments3
I dunno if I was writing poetry when you first wrote this. If I was, I never knew my poetry meant so much to you! heehee. Will flattery get me everywhere?!
Your writing and your singing are noted in history Orchidee. Some mistook your very first note for the squeel which screamed from Harold's gob as he copped fer an arrah in his eyeball.
Beautiful emotive write d a, if it wasn't for poetry where would we be, mine tackle this issue today.
Since joining MPS i have accepted that poetry is an important part of my existence.
written like a poet would write about poetry & love.... by a poet who knows what he is writing about..... N
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