Array ( [sid] => 78028 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Not everything... [time] => 2005-01-01 11:09:32 [hometext] => Oh, I am sure everyone has felt this in some way... [bodytext] => Beating, pounding out an echo of life
My hearts peels out a rythym
Thought I caught you, had you in my grasp
But the clutch met my heart
Barring my pulse, eluding the tears
You were special to me
Each step sinks like a lode stone
Into my belly, crushing me
Nothing you could do
That which you can think limits you in life
Just silencing you in a way
My lover, how we got lost in this time
Reading eyes without a mouth on the heart
How predictable

I throw one hand to the sky
To bless and curse the blazing stars
Their shining eyes in the plague of night
Your winter motions across the ground
Then rises higher than the worst of storms
My finger crooks to cast my final blow
Life wasn't meant to be a ***** game
But you play me on a daily basis
and here I try
My riddles comfort me little
They bring me ridicule
but I focus on that remorse
cut me away
throw me, away [comments] => 2 [counter] => 162 [topic] => 13 [informant] => worldwise [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry ) Your Poetry Dot Com - Not everything...


Not everything...
Date: Saturday, 1st January 2005 @ 11:09:32 AM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: worldwise
Beating, pounding out an echo of life
My hearts peels out a rythym
Thought I caught you, had you in my grasp
But the clutch met my heart
Barring my pulse, eluding the tears
You were special to me
Each step sinks like a lode stone
Into my belly, crushing me
Nothing you could do
That which you can think limits you in life
Just silencing you in a way
My lover, how we got lost in this time
Reading eyes without a mouth on the heart
How predictable

I throw one hand to the sky
To bless and curse the blazing stars
Their shining eyes in the plague of night
Your winter motions across the ground
Then rises higher than the worst of storms
My finger crooks to cast my final blow
Life wasn't meant to be a ***** game
But you play me on a daily basis
and here I try
My riddles comfort me little
They bring me ridicule
but I focus on that remorse
cut me away
throw me, away

This poem is Copyright © worldwise


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