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Array ( [sid] => 127033 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => The Empty Picture Frame [time] => 2006-10-17 07:39:46 [hometext] => [bodytext] => I’m looking at the empty picture frame of where you use to be. Now I’m trying to fill the spot of where you up and left me.

I burnt your pictures, and watched the frame filled with glass break, but my memory can’t forget our Sunday walks by the lake.

I was on my back looking at the fall sky, you were by my side, but I never knew you where thinking about saying goodbye.

I felt nothing as she walked away, and tomorrow I would remember less of her than today.

The big thing was, you actually meant something to me, unlike the rest, but now...

You’ve left me here clutching my bleeding heart. I’m desperately applying pressure to keep me from falling apart.
[comments] => 1 [counter] => 204 [topic] => 22 [informant] => midnightwriter [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => LostLove )

The Empty Picture Frame

Contributed by midnightwriter on Tuesday, 17th October 2006 @ 07:39:46 AM in AEST
Topic: LostLove

I’m looking at the empty picture frame of where you use to be. Now I’m trying to fill the spot of where you up and left me.

I burnt your pictures, and watched the frame filled with glass break, but my memory can’t forget our Sunday walks by the lake.

I was on my back looking at the fall sky, you were by my side, but I never knew you where thinking about saying goodbye.

I felt nothing as she walked away, and tomorrow I would remember less of her than today.

The big thing was, you actually meant something to me, unlike the rest, but now...

You’ve left me here clutching my bleeding heart. I’m desperately applying pressure to keep me from falling apart.

Copyright Â© midnightwriter ... [ 2006-10-17 07:39:46]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: The Empty Picture Frame (User Rating: 1 )
by strawberryshortcake on Tuesday, 17th October 2006 @ 01:39:41 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

sounds like we have a lot in common.i'm the one who walked out of a bad thing. you're the one who got left in the dust by someone else. either way we both know how it feels to get burned. you have a great gift with words. and don't worry you can still pick yourself up off the floor.good job.

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Poetry is much like a great photo, a single "moment in time" capturing many feelings and emotions. Yet, they are very alive; creating stirrings within the readers who form visual "pictures" of the expressed emotions within the Poem. Â©

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