"fantancy" poems
As i jumped from the plane intending to take my life,
All i could think of was my darling wife;
how she'd left me a few days ago,
And how her departure has made me low;
She took my kids with little to say,
But a few lines indicating that she'll be far away.
i remember the good old days, how it used to be,
And how i thought that we will be for enternity;
I was very wrong- it is clear to see,
I resort to a song to drown my misery;
There was a time when she was all i had,
And the thought of it then made me glad;
I would ride on my cycle with a smiling face,
Today all of it have become utter disgrace;
she gladly told her friends about me,
Our tender kisses and how i tickled her fantancy;
in eachother's arms, we'd talk of the kids we'd have,
Not knowing what exactly that life would serve;
and many more but little time to say,
For all my folly, this is how i repay.
"My dearest" is what she said,
"For all these years i felt i was dead;
you break my heart with the love that you give,
When tremendous bashing is what i thought to recieve;
i spent the nights thinking you were insane,
You never felt hurt nor did you feel pain;
these kids are mine but none are yours,
I despised our *** but desired the other ***********
i have gone with the kids foerever from you,
And will tell them that you being their daddy, was never true;
you have loved me so much all these years,
My heart wanted adventure, no wonder the tears;
now i take this big leap out to be with this man,
Whether he loves me or not, he is my ideal man;
and incase you wonder who he really is,
i am glad to tell you-he is the one who gives me peace;
goodbye my darling, do what you have to do,
Incase you live or die, i will never come for you."
As i plung through the sky rehearsing these words,
I hoped to meet my makers- my waiting gods;
but here i lay with my eyes wide open,
Still on earth and not in heaven;
all i can feel is excrutiating pain,
From a broken body and self disdain;
i have lost every limb of my body,
No love, nor hope nor family;
what kind of life is this that i have lived,
That even when i wanted, i am not deceased?
Nov 3, 2015
Nov 3, 2015 at 7:21 AM UTC
our stories
we write them ourselves
who cares anymore
about anyone
other
than as a one
to fulfill
our need
our greed
the story book fantancy
of love gone by?
we write the final page long before
its true time
we know the grief to come
we betray our lives
out of what?
boredom?
who knows?
our stories
we write them ourselves
in lines
and lies
well
the lovers are still here!
waiting!
as
songs of betrayal
fill the airways
of hearts and minds
Sep 24, 2010
Sep 24, 2010 at 10:11 AM UTC