Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Apr 2017 Kate Nicole Pedroso
Kat
"If you can wait until I arrive home
then I will put you to sleep every night.
You'll no longer have to hide in your dome
because I will be there to shed you light.

I will hold you close, like a brother should
and chase away the guys you want to date.
I'd be there for you like you knew I would,
and I know you mean love when you say 'hate.'

So please keep in mind, I will be home soon.
Just wait seven more days, one more week,
and all the shed tears will be dried by noon.
No more need to cry, no need to be meek."

...but my older brother, he was too brave,
for that night, the war took him to his grave.
I know the rule of sonnets is to just number them, but I like the idea of the first one having an actual title. Also, this isn't that good.
As I roam this gallery of portraits
I see beautiful ones, but quite a few
A myriad happy and gloomy faces
And by serendipity, I find you.

Chaos of colors, your broken pieces
What could have ruined this exquisite art?
I try to save you from your grave distress
With the only last piece of my broken heart.

But woe to me as it has ever been
I failed to paint your most beautiful smile
My colors failed me, I stand crestfallen
You're another piece of artistic style

Oh! My broken heart breaks even further
As I see you being painted by him
He's an expressionist; well-defined painter
Painting you love as I have never seen.

I'm doomed; consumed by my melancholy
I'm a pathetic painter-turned-poet
Can somebody, anybody save me?
Slowly, I become a broken portrait.
pt. 1
I'm in love with a man
I know not to love,
his heart will never be free.
I waste my days
a slave to his ways-
knowing he will never love me.

He is the secret
I can never reveal,
the best lover I ever have known.
I've nothing to give
but my body.....it's his-
fresh dirt for him to bury his bone.

Hopelessly hooked
on him like a drug,
wanting him day and night.
I play his ***** game
I have no shame-
taking it all, knuckles white.

Dead is the conscience
I knew so well,
and morals.....they ran far away.
Clarity now blurry
in a love-drunk slurry-
the 'good me' has gone astray.

To lay with him
is playing with fire,
the flames...they burn me alive.
Leaving me marred
hurting and scarred-
the pain on which I thrive.

A fool for punishment
I beg for more,
even if all I am worthy of is ****.
Loving him breaks me
it overtakes me-
but I'm not willing to quit.

I die a little more
with each passing day,
until again, I get lost in those eyes....
All doubts go away
so for now I'll stay-
living this life of lies.
You can't always help who you fall in love with...

— The End —