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Haylin Mar 2019
15 to love, still able to win,
gotta tough it out,
winning is everything. Losing's a sin.
I'll keep trying. I'm still in with a shout.

My backhand slices
the ball to my foe
(Joe's my friend but in a crisis,
I shift where the winds blow)

He parries, sends the ball to the line,
his touch is immaculate,
cleaner than mine.
I leap like a cat

return it with ease
he flicks it back over the net
intending to tease.
I grimace. We made a bet

and now I engage
into higher gear,
my brain fills with rage,
my heart fills with fear.

Advantage to me,
the crowd stands to cheer,
Joe falls to one knee,
buckled, losing a tear.

I volley. It whizzers
past his frozen form
he tries, but misses,
defeated, forelorn.

At last I have won,
the gold cup is mine,
another dream spun,
back to the factory line.
Stanley Wilkin Jul 2017
15 to love, still able to win,
gotta tough it out,
winning is everything. Losing's a sin.
I'll keep trying. I'm still in with a shout.

My backhand slices
the ball to my foe
(Joe's my friend but in a crisis,
I shift where the winds blow)

He parries, sends the ball to the line,
his touch is immaculate,
cleaner than mine.
I leap like a cat

return it with ease
he flicks it back over the net
intending to tease.
I grimace. We made a bet

and now I engage
into higher gear,
my brain fills with rage,
my heart fills with fear.

Advantage to me,
the crowd stands to cheer,
Joe falls to one knee,
buckled, losing a tear.

I volley. It whizzers
past his frozen form
he tries, but misses,
defeated, forelorn.

At last I have won,
the gold cup is mine,
another dream spun,
back to the factory line.
She writhes in your head like an old time movie scene, moves in sepia on a multi faceted screen. And I say multi in an American way, to make it more real, to make my language more spectacular, because the scene becomes wooden and fragile, portraying what could have been. I feel what I feel, I feel, I feel, I fell, sweet dreams are made of these. Of her. Of her. It’s just a moment, one moment, a forever moment, a moment to last forever. Return, return, delete, rewind, eject, Play. Nothing but silence. Black eyes, black hair, splayed across my pillow. My cheekbones feel the cold, but there is nothing in the air but an hour of her beauty.

I see her tears, those that she has which to cry. They have built a mountain in her mind, drowned the molehill she never even saw. I drive away, I feel the gears crunch beneath my feet, the pressure on the accelerator, the music takes me away. The movie is static now, click, clack, the sound of the track. Ball bearings roll around the inside of my mind. She becomes the centre of gravity, the room spins and envelops all the background noise, the lights flicker and burn, your skin tingles and hairs freeze in anticipation , for her. Her. Her. Her. Time is nothing but time, man-made affluence which becomes influential in smoky rooms and dried out bars.

She has the kind of smile, religious in its endeavours , it wears a medal honouring the highest bravery that humankind can commit. She gives you a moment of peace and it lies beneath your feet waiting to settle on your skin. There is rain in the air, it starts in the west and rises with the sun, follows your footprints when you are on the run. Grasping at her clothes, her arms follow yours, you talk with your eyes, a language, of love, under the starriest skies. Lost in her whirlwind, I feel grounded in her grace, lost in the moment in the beauty of her face. And to think that she is an illusion of the majestic kind, her arrogance and emptiness have left her spurned and blind. And my footprints begin to fade.

Dancing in the garden underneath the stars, to music not heard by human eyes. Looking for belonging, looking for hope, sacred artefacts not found in the eyes of a lover. Shaking my head, shaking my bed, playing hide and seek with memories of snapshots taken before you were reborn. Lovelost and forelorn. Candles dance in the darkness, making shadows against the wall, fingers grasp for her, to feel her in your arms, to hear her speak your name, your name, your name, is beauty on her lips, sweet and hungry are those words which we wish to hear, felt by fear. Feelings, feelings left in a box on a shelf ******* with a bow, a gift, a wanton surprise.

Define real, define reality, define fallen. She wants a need she knows not of. How does this beginning end? I remember her as once we played with fire. Her introduction to me is not made. All I have to pay you with is faith and trust. She did not suffer once on this journey, she found her way in my arms, and found was I in her loss.
Sailing by in a boat made of paper
Circus dancers far above the clouds
Trees covered with ribbons
Twisted by the sun

Birds singing forgotten notes
Past reflections of precious moments
Barking at the moon above
Firey breath and fogged up mirrors

Simple words across a page
Gently gliding with the wind
Wicked branches of forelorn beauty
Whispered temptations and unanswered prayers

Drifting slowly under broken bridges
Sailing by in a boat made of paper.
M Vega Feb 2011
They called you a dog
Its teeth were yellow
Rotting, cigarette and
Stink breath,

Gnarled skin around
The mouth
Laugh lines never existing
Only frowns fault.

Tar and wax and
Gunk, how else can
I say it-
- Your mouth, a treasure.

Riotous screaming
And bleak moans
Of let me go
I did, I held loosely

Canines with tartar
Can you imagine
The dentist?
He cried when he picked at

It rotted black now,
Gone beyond just
The absence of a
Smile forelorn,

Two surgeries and
Gauze and chunks
of gums, you
Wired yourself shut.

They yelled at you.
In the office, in
The school yard
Laughing, pointing

With a hand over your
Mouth you didn't
Bother to grin
Anymore, they did you in.

No operations could
Save that precious,
The innocence, you being
A victim.
midnight prague Oct 2010
there is a medium of loneliness
where I find you on sulken days
damp like thin paper
subdued in hues
your eyes run down my paintings
like a oil spill engraved on the face of the universe

morbidly beautiful I cast you on my bewildered
kite
I stare up at you
with shattered eyes
I reach for you like barren agony
and you come down to me

we meet in our empty land
we prance it like skipping heart beats
we cut it open like red meat
while the rest of the world is beneath our feet
we retreat

into forelorn seclusion
the place we loved after all the defeat
and to myself I repeat
and I repeat

how are you so stunning
that you casted my fixed gaze from the stars
brung my world to a standstill and everything
I held onto now falls
when I hear the beckoning of your gazes call

and I know that love though dark and endless
beautiful and agless

exsists after all
Jamison Bell Oct 2017
I love you.
"Why?"
Because you're good.
"No. I'm not."
Yes
"If I'm so good. Why don't I love you?"
That's why you're good.
Raven May 2017
**** it.
**** it.
**** it.

This manic mind
This depressed
This suppressed
This unimpressed
Pervious
Imeasurable mass of emptiness
Overflowing with sadness no, not so
Simple as that

But more an interweaving madness
A growing mass
Like a tumor
Malignant with forelorn
And adorned with ornamental sentiment
Regret and all the things one forgets
Just to **** it up and get on with it

And the day to day, it stays that way
We cut out our tongues for lack of lungs
To breathe the air required to care enough
To speak the words we need to say

Everyday
We cherrypick our blessings and forget
To give credit to the lesser triumphs we've made
Day after day

We watch the light shine brightest
And we let it fade and fade
Never reaching out into the growing darkness
For fear we will be dragged away.
Tina RSH Feb 2018
They spot an armful of red dots run along the thick skin.
Of forelorn hands, heavy smiles, of a body not so thin.
They say it's the rash of youth, healed over time.
A layer of mind, peeled and wrapped around a repressed crime.
Perhaps they live a saint's life and all die as Gods.
And we go to hell as jokers. what are the odds?
I cannot unveil the piercing daggers, what they see is only tips.
I am to plant a kiss of life on my own lips.
Since drought has empraced my aching heart,
I ***** blood each second, live, but fall apart.
This may be a little triggering. please take it into account before reading. Down, but this is not the end. Stigmatised but not broken. here is a poem from the depth of my soul :)
Moon Shine Nov 2014
There once was a day
I went to my boys house to stay
We slept under the covers nice and warm
But suddenly his face was forelorn
Out of the bed he raced
To a secrete door under a rug he paced
And left me behind
I couldn't read these signs
So there I went too
And suddenly knew
What his life had been
It was covered in sin
Under the door and down the stair
Were bodies skinned and hung with care
I'd scream and cry
Then he sighed
And I felt sad
And I wasn't mad
He asked why I hadn't run
I said you're face is my only sun
He told me that when folks left him it was most of the fun
Back on the shelf he put his gun
This was a dream I had about my ex a few months ago, it was pretty terrible so I thought I'd share.
Tyler Mar 2021
The building blocks of life I have tried solving.
Why we live and purpose of crawling.
Every thought ends with a foreboding dark door, the perfect piece t.
No light beyond of love evermore, just a dark cast of all thoughts of you, for you (i hope), abhor.
If not for you i would forelorn a way to unlock this darkest door; a tool to abstain, refrain, find a way to endure.
But this darkest door another you has explorn.
And with it calls the horns of a wicked beast with no twined flicker through wick.
They call to me to solve a mystery so sacred, so secret.
A secret so many have solved but none have lain light.
The darkest doors seem to reclaim this right.
For all those who've tried, and went and went died.
Her days were numbered
The poor little bird
A tussle in the tree
And off flew a hawk
The poor little bird
Plopped down on the ground
In jumped the cat
Bird in mouth
But Gently held
As I took her from him
And held her gently in my hand
Lying still and forelorn
I thought she was hurt
So I gently stroked her wings
And just by surprise
Off she flew
Safe once again
And hopefully good as new!

— The End —