Away From The Sun
Date: Monday, 3rd December 2007 @ 08:55:08 AM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry


Contributed By: Maccabeus

I met her on a day,
In the end of November.
I want to recall,
But I want to forget her.

I was ushered inside,
And told my mistakes.
I was embarrassed,
Then was immersed in the sight of her face.

I knew at this moment,
that this was the flower.
That grew in the soil,
And would die off without her.

So I looked in her eyes,
And I planted a seed.
That was to be my only flower.
In a garden of weeds.

The flower it grew,
And eclipsed all the weeds
And the Elms and the Oaks,
The birds in the breeze.

All in a moment,
That’s all that I felt.
Because once in her gaze,
I could never get out.

Winter came and went,
And I flew for a time,
The joys in the sky,
Reflected in her eyes.

But, I wish I could sing,
And I wish I could fly
And I wish to have,
Lasers shooting out of my eyes.

I left things to chance,
and took things for granted,
and I left sad and alone
Rather loved and romantic.


And the plant it withered,
And died in the heart of the fire,
That had consumed my heart,
And it died off without her.

And all that was left was the blackness,
And a jungle of weeds,
A tallness of trees,
And a singular seed,
That I wait to plant,
In her hazel eyes,
And then I would protect it,
And then could happily die.

That’s a long time from now,
And I’ve still got my tricks,
My bottle of luck,
And my basket of wit.

If I had one thing,
I know what I’d do,
I’d stop listening to love songs,
And get back to you.

And trading the world,
Is still in the question,
I love her so much more,
But I’m open for suggestions.

The things I’d do to look,
In her eyes once it’s over,
And say to her,
That I wanted to love her.

We might meet again,
But naught can be undone,
On my endless cycle,
Away from the sun.


This poem is Copyright © Maccabeus



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