Ricardo_b
10-17-2005, 05:04 PM
These are all poems I wrote today in the neverending poem post http://www.online-literature.com/forums/showthread.php?t=13581
But I would like people to appreciate my work separatly and maybe, if you can spare a moment, write down a commentary.
**********
The world keeps changing
But I am still here,
Afraid of aging,
Trying to push away fear.
Our time has passed
And I am still here,
Searching my memories
For a bright night to sleep.
Running away from the changing night,
Where the people are hanging on tight,
Trying to break free,
Trying to follow me.
A new scar in the face
And still here I stand,
Looking in the mirror,
Who once tried to jump the fence.
**********
But another day starts
And in light I begin to see,
From the stars people calling out for me,
I look around but cannot see
They're so far away-What about me?
It is my sorrow of tomorrow,
To feel i've failed what others achieved,
I tried so hard-
You cannot believe.
Break in pieces my life events,
To try to figure out something I can emend,
Days and days and nights again,
Nothing is found-where was my life spent?
I remember a dream of a day,
One of those that are here to stay,
About a friend I wouldn't meet,
No matter how much i seek.
I'm not sad but tired,
I'm not a diamond nor a saphire,
I am one more changing piece,
Of a sadistic game of life.
**********
But the sadness I feel
I don't totally understand,
I just know I'm not in command
And no one gives me their hand.
Siting alone in the world of mine,
Created by me,
I am just fine.
It's out there I'm afraid.
The world is too big outside the walls
Created by me,
They're not big enough-
I can't even dance a walse.
Alone in the room I read and I write,
With the moon by my side tonight,
And in the morning I am too aware of me-
must watch out for danger,
even though all I want to do is dream.
**********
I write down these words,
expecting to understand,
why they're more powerful than a sword
or a cannon-or a pen.
But while I write them down
they're power seems to fade,
as if I was in the middle of a parade
where the people are frown.
I think, I feel and I write
Reading the dreams of others,
Some in which they kill their mothers
and others in which they worship divine.
And as the moon rises high in the night,
And the clean streets go dirty,
I start to wonder what we would see
If there happen to be light in the gutter.
My pen is fainting
In my wordy hand,
Today no more painting
Tomorrow, maybe-if I can.
**********
Post a comment, please.
But I would like people to appreciate my work separatly and maybe, if you can spare a moment, write down a commentary.
**********
The world keeps changing
But I am still here,
Afraid of aging,
Trying to push away fear.
Our time has passed
And I am still here,
Searching my memories
For a bright night to sleep.
Running away from the changing night,
Where the people are hanging on tight,
Trying to break free,
Trying to follow me.
A new scar in the face
And still here I stand,
Looking in the mirror,
Who once tried to jump the fence.
**********
But another day starts
And in light I begin to see,
From the stars people calling out for me,
I look around but cannot see
They're so far away-What about me?
It is my sorrow of tomorrow,
To feel i've failed what others achieved,
I tried so hard-
You cannot believe.
Break in pieces my life events,
To try to figure out something I can emend,
Days and days and nights again,
Nothing is found-where was my life spent?
I remember a dream of a day,
One of those that are here to stay,
About a friend I wouldn't meet,
No matter how much i seek.
I'm not sad but tired,
I'm not a diamond nor a saphire,
I am one more changing piece,
Of a sadistic game of life.
**********
But the sadness I feel
I don't totally understand,
I just know I'm not in command
And no one gives me their hand.
Siting alone in the world of mine,
Created by me,
I am just fine.
It's out there I'm afraid.
The world is too big outside the walls
Created by me,
They're not big enough-
I can't even dance a walse.
Alone in the room I read and I write,
With the moon by my side tonight,
And in the morning I am too aware of me-
must watch out for danger,
even though all I want to do is dream.
**********
I write down these words,
expecting to understand,
why they're more powerful than a sword
or a cannon-or a pen.
But while I write them down
they're power seems to fade,
as if I was in the middle of a parade
where the people are frown.
I think, I feel and I write
Reading the dreams of others,
Some in which they kill their mothers
and others in which they worship divine.
And as the moon rises high in the night,
And the clean streets go dirty,
I start to wonder what we would see
If there happen to be light in the gutter.
My pen is fainting
In my wordy hand,
Today no more painting
Tomorrow, maybe-if I can.
**********
Post a comment, please.