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Array ( [sid] => 98336 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Born Dead [time] => 2005-06-16 23:33:53 [hometext] => [bodytext] => Demons come scattering through morbid thoughts,
Dying, lying, crying, sighing...
Where did the little girl go?
She wasted away, ran with the devil.
No room for a savior, too much poison.
Dead little girl never learned how to cry,
The wicked one forced the tears down her cheek.
Screaming, fearing nothing but my reflection.
Whose eyes are those?
What memories are reality?
Is it all a vanishing nightmare?
I could only wish the possible were true.
Mother, father, sister, brothers, lovers...
Alone, no more, isolation in my hole.
Scathing up walls, never touching the ground.
Knuckles turn to fists,
Smashing the face everyone calls beautiful.
The men in white coats should have
Let me die.
You can't think for yourself, little girl,
Let us save you.
Knives cutting my skull, searching for the disease,
No heart, no beat.
White coats, just leave me be.
Begging please let me join my creator.
Still I find nothing and no one here.
Patiently waiting,
Losing patience.
White coats, give me the knife. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 157 [topic] => 13 [informant] => Rikki [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )

Born Dead

Contributed by Rikki on Thursday, 16th June 2005 @ 11:33:53 PM in AEST
Topic: DarkPoetry

Demons come scattering through morbid thoughts,
Dying, lying, crying, sighing...
Where did the little girl go?
She wasted away, ran with the devil.
No room for a savior, too much poison.
Dead little girl never learned how to cry,
The wicked one forced the tears down her cheek.
Screaming, fearing nothing but my reflection.
Whose eyes are those?
What memories are reality?
Is it all a vanishing nightmare?
I could only wish the possible were true.
Mother, father, sister, brothers, lovers...
Alone, no more, isolation in my hole.
Scathing up walls, never touching the ground.
Knuckles turn to fists,
Smashing the face everyone calls beautiful.
The men in white coats should have
Let me die.
You can't think for yourself, little girl,
Let us save you.
Knives cutting my skull, searching for the disease,
No heart, no beat.
White coats, just leave me be.
Begging please let me join my creator.
Still I find nothing and no one here.
Patiently waiting,
Losing patience.
White coats, give me the knife.

Copyright © Rikki ... [ 2005-06-16 23:33:53]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: Born Dead (User Rating: 1 )
by MomentInTime on Friday, 17th June 2005 @ 01:10:25 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

wow! Powerful write Rikki. I feel that the first seven lines are full on and this momentum wants carrying right through to the end - if you know what I mean.

Well done.

Jordan :o)

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