DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, change an expensive new page:|
the supposed dealt a past to show regret heat like ice proved again the mad world diced legs pretentious hands luxurious change an expensive new page even but odd white with a black dot not the same memories different taste stairs dusted with gold prefer the dilapidates of the old heights skied thrown made me short in ago no track of trees for their people not the kid in me graffiti walls misshaded my colors in vain ached to the smell of the comforting plain lost myself in nature miss the nature in me a wild flavor green lawn muffled cries laughter of strangers away lies travel in time but the clock not mine night memories flood in veins and dive painted stars up---the daylight dims and hides wish a come back to the undone feels awoke four years in no permission in steal answers disconnected fought confusion and blended hearts alone in the dark to pay maybe awaiting the longed stark on that Saturday
yestereve we succame A lengthy ballad of longing formerly one of obstinance flared in a cacophony of passion
Whilst usually twirling in a seemly epitome fashion, yestereve a caprice thought laid heavy on hearts as there was no doubt of desire nor were there objections to her for even when my affections consumed you lady desire was just an inexorable
yestereve she picked petals from a Sinensis blossom there went the pain any semblance of grudge along with sanity reason and lastly, the walls as carefully constructed as that of Pyramus and Thisbe's such vulnerability unmatched for your sweet scent lulled me from the arms of reason for reason, although safe, is the most intricate and fragile part of the ballad and the first to fall victim to the cascade
What a fool I must be to have gladly forgotten the kinks of your hands or the freckles on the back of your neck that form a perfect triad. The way your upper lip curls when you grin made my glissade blissful and passionate Your flustered twirl the very epitome of aubade
Ignorant of the harsh retombe of reality Your flustered face En L'air Every touch a pleasant surprise that formed a grand symphony
A moment of unfiltered emotion A heavenly ballad so cruelly of yestereve.
twas hard to replicate this feeling after knowing how it all ends
There’s poetry on my walls Brightening up the halls I reread one every day I survey the words as I lay on my bed Thinking of what I could have written instead So many words going through my head In the end, I still place them back up on the wall Some of them I end up crumpling into a ball And ripping them off my wall Then I recall When I wrote them And how I felt like a sparkling gem I tape them back together Straighten the creases And taping the pieces When I look at my wall I no longer feel small ~21/3/21
Treat every piece of poetry as a precious gem. Because it is.
I. I keep looking I keep drawing hanging onto memories miserably (they're slipping away) The starless night scene illuminated by city lights - a small canvas I keep at my bedside table. A Christmas polaroid, a photo taken by the tree two years in a row. The memory of home it's slipping away.
II. I keep looking, keep staring at the unfamiliar faces i put up miserably trying to connect. Pretty eyes, pretty lips, dimples and freckles cheeks - I'll never be like them, I'll never have them Then what's the point? to keep looking, searching for memories never made never will.
III. i don't like empty walls ugly stains filling a void
is there anyone to erase it? - my dark stain - cover it? paint it?
nothing can cover the empty walls nothing but the memory of me.
Something different I'm trying. If anyone wants to let me know on anything I can improve or has general thoughts, please send a message or a comment :) Thank you for reading, I hope you like it!
Like a broken Empty dollhouse Fully exposed for everyone see Walls down Fascinated I peer inside... And there is nothing But sad loneliness
A giant 200 year old tree fell on a beautiful two story home I admired for years and now they are tearing it down. It was very eerie seeing inside the empty home. All the front walls were gone. It looked helpless.