Array ( [sid] => 121112 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => So Often [time] => 2006-06-01 12:12:45 [hometext] => Not sure about the category, but it means a lot to me emotionally, if you get me. [bodytext] => So often I see it;
Another casualty of my generation,
Desperate for fame; or something like it,
For the fifteen minutes they shall spend, spot-lit.
But the die do not fall in the way that they wish, and so they throw it all away;
For a cigarette and a glass of wine.
For empty words, spoken by people with empty eyes, and anything but empty pockets.
These people do not know the path to paradise;
They understand only greed, unlike us, they do not know what it is to need.
And need we do.
Each other, each breath of putrid air in this city we call home.
Another night spent in with a take-away, in front of the TV,
Phone strategically off the hook.
The loneliness that kills others doesn’t matter to you,
Others don’t understand, so what do you care?
Who you are remains in doubt; never understood the question, you’re you,
Why should you mind that these sour old fools just wont accept something new?

When I knock on your door you do not turn me away; as I was expecting you to,
You ask me in, and we sit, facing each other at opposite ends of the room,
But so much more than carpet and air lies between us.
Time, the double edged sword, not only healing, but tearing apart;
Pulling me in two directions, the direction of my mind, and the direction of my heart.
When I look in your eyes, something makes me scream,
‘Oh, God. Can’t we go back to the start?’ [comments] => 1 [counter] => 152 [topic] => 48 [informant] => Ruby2sdy [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => EmotionalPoetry ) Your Poetry Dot Com - So Often


So Often
Date: Thursday, 1st June 2006 @ 12:12:45 PM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: Ruby2sdy
So often I see it;
Another casualty of my generation,
Desperate for fame; or something like it,
For the fifteen minutes they shall spend, spot-lit.
But the die do not fall in the way that they wish, and so they throw it all away;
For a cigarette and a glass of wine.
For empty words, spoken by people with empty eyes, and anything but empty pockets.
These people do not know the path to paradise;
They understand only greed, unlike us, they do not know what it is to need.
And need we do.
Each other, each breath of putrid air in this city we call home.
Another night spent in with a take-away, in front of the TV,
Phone strategically off the hook.
The loneliness that kills others doesn’t matter to you,
Others don’t understand, so what do you care?
Who you are remains in doubt; never understood the question, you’re you,
Why should you mind that these sour old fools just wont accept something new?

When I knock on your door you do not turn me away; as I was expecting you to,
You ask me in, and we sit, facing each other at opposite ends of the room,
But so much more than carpet and air lies between us.
Time, the double edged sword, not only healing, but tearing apart;
Pulling me in two directions, the direction of my mind, and the direction of my heart.
When I look in your eyes, something makes me scream,
‘Oh, God. Can’t we go back to the start?’

This poem is Copyright © Ruby2sdy


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