miss tenderness
08-30-2006, 02:02 PM
just simple thoughts I wrote inspired by a friend who insisted on looking at some of my writings,I ceased to write for a while so I went back searching for some of my old writings and I found letters that provoked me to write new thoughts. Wish to see your comments ,everybody:)
here it is:
Today you broke my heart. I was back to forgotten, engraved by dust memories. I opened my book which is wrapped by a girl wearing a long shawl, carrying a dry red flower, her eyes spoke sadly. Is it a coincidence that I chose that cover, where the girl's small head is looking at the marbled floor, down with despair; why she provokes me now? Why not six years before? The moment I grabbed my precious book, yellow letters were shattered in my lap, yes I was their when I led them to where I may see them no more. I even walked in the funeral. I received them with an open heart, nay a broken heart. Why? Am I different this time .they belonged to her, to that goddess with the loud laughter, my friend? Gosh, she had pretty eyes but most of what I can remember of her foggy image is the silky, brown hair. It was long and concealed her neck, it was scattered all around her tall body. The picture is withering but your soul is just beside me, all the time. We parted before the morning awakes me…days of injustice moved her there, to a place I can't reach. Does she remember? Am I just a tottered page in her past now? Is she even a life? Does she still join that laugh? Is she happy?
Come dahling, I am still loyal to that word; I still pronounce it the way you used to when you were acting the duchess. Come and collect whatever left of me. Are you happy? If you are, then it's enough to make tiny drops of light touch my weary heart.
PS.this is not a poem,just simple thoughts written in prose..
here it is:
Today you broke my heart. I was back to forgotten, engraved by dust memories. I opened my book which is wrapped by a girl wearing a long shawl, carrying a dry red flower, her eyes spoke sadly. Is it a coincidence that I chose that cover, where the girl's small head is looking at the marbled floor, down with despair; why she provokes me now? Why not six years before? The moment I grabbed my precious book, yellow letters were shattered in my lap, yes I was their when I led them to where I may see them no more. I even walked in the funeral. I received them with an open heart, nay a broken heart. Why? Am I different this time .they belonged to her, to that goddess with the loud laughter, my friend? Gosh, she had pretty eyes but most of what I can remember of her foggy image is the silky, brown hair. It was long and concealed her neck, it was scattered all around her tall body. The picture is withering but your soul is just beside me, all the time. We parted before the morning awakes me…days of injustice moved her there, to a place I can't reach. Does she remember? Am I just a tottered page in her past now? Is she even a life? Does she still join that laugh? Is she happy?
Come dahling, I am still loyal to that word; I still pronounce it the way you used to when you were acting the duchess. Come and collect whatever left of me. Are you happy? If you are, then it's enough to make tiny drops of light touch my weary heart.
PS.this is not a poem,just simple thoughts written in prose..