Sep 2010
i saw
your face last night
and i tried to make it
smile the way it used to, but i
couldn't.
—
you say
he is inside
everything, everywhere
but where is he now? in my head?
no way.
—
guitar,
you are my joy.
in the darkest hour, you
bring me back to life and make me
happy.
your face last night
and i tried to make it
smile the way it used to, but i
couldn't.
—
you say
he is inside
everything, everywhere
but where is he now? in my head?
no way.
—
guitar,
you are my joy.
in the darkest hour, you
bring me back to life and make me
happy.
I stumbled across a site describing different styles of poetry. These are my experiments with Cinquain: a short, usually unrhymed poem consisting of twenty-two syllables distributed as 2, 4, 6, 8, 2, in five lines.
21 September 2009.
21 September 2009.
