Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2010
I’m running,
Running backwards,
Moving inwards
All the time,
Always caught up in knowing
where I'm going
But,
I’m coming back,
Back to the place I never knew,
streets with street signs covered
by the wool around my eyes,
A kiss,
Your love,
The broken bulb
Beneath a night's sky
was lying
as the light cried
Finding,
her last breath was a sigh
as she was dying,
Nevertheless
I was loving,
loving these moments,
closer than far in these moments,
movements forward
are leaving foot prints full of color,
Your beauty is an antithesis of my own
And I see how you and me
are making a great gray
But,
The Gray makes rain,
It painfully casts a shadow on the flowers
That bloomed
When I first saw you,
Truly saw you,
I thought you’d be like that Forever,
However,
The Grey is a stain,
It relentlessly takes away the color
Of when we laid together,
Severed by the
Regretful pull of a halo around your neck,
I Flew,
I flew towards a hole in the ground,
Clipped by the gravel and soot
As I fell right through to somewhere new
Thinking,
Though gravity will eventually
Pull me back,
Back to where I was before,
Thrusting me threw this planet's core,
The duty of a downward pull
Creates dreams of my history,
I'm falling into this atmosphere,
It's unmistakeably my sky again,
Unmistakeably I'm lost again,
Perhaps for a time again,
Perhaps after I’ll fly back through the center
To leave here forever,
But,
Perhaps I’ll grow to know
The difference between you and me,
While in this hazy dream - You'll see,
Here where my forward footsteps stop their track,
Here where my white should find
your shade of black,
Here,
I'll turn back,
I’ll be free at last
Written by
Ryan Patrick Walsh
664
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems