Untitled
What if the wax on the candle just disappeared in thin air,
disintegrated into the murky ground.
no evidence of the candle flickering,let alone burning,evaporating its existence.
wat if the rose just rised as a wilted one?
no scarlet red,no luster in its beauty?
just there to behold a sympathetic glance from the o thers beyond our midst.
Wat if God was knocking on the door,but the turmoil from materialism just would barge thru refraining u from listening?
wat if we were numb to the sense of a hint of affction because our harden heart are froxen to any compassion whatsoever?just fell and broke to pieces uncounted for,put back to gether intact wit disordered tape and its once fullness is now withered and lowly.
wat if we slept wit our eyes open,no peace or tranquility,but disruption no cure of wat seems to b hopelessness in our days of numbered glory.
but here we r,standing by the chained gates and we knock,wewe thump on the shains,but do theyl istwe thump on the shains,but do theyl isten?we'll never know?do theyl isten,they won't show?
will they ever c me?
will they ever hear me?
will they ever know me?
but here i am,knocking on the gate.
girl by the river
Sh'e lowly and defeated by a withered tree of brokeness,
wat she grasps,seems ot escape and linger out of her fingers.
Her scent seems liek poison with hints of mystic dust in the air.
Her eyes once full of wonder,now tear stricken with shame.
Size of a clenched fist,so strong yet so weary.
comfort cushions it from all pain and fury.
burdens that eat and gnaw hungrily at her flesh,
once ripe and once pure once happy and fresh.
Now left at the mercy of the elders beyond,
by a river to cry and fill up its banks,by a river to c her reflection to know she's still existent.
Forgotten as a mere memory to b rotting away into the abyss of a cold night.
she yells and she screams "the sky is falling".
Noone pays heed for they no wiser to pay any heed watsever to her.she's nothing how's she know?
She screams ,she moans but who has time to care?
she cries and she yearns for a life of sunrise and flare.
She desires and pleads for a life other than her own
but who are u t pity,wh or u to frown?
it's not yr fault she's not content and that she's feeling down.
Don't bother now ,i tell u loved one,don't wasted a shedded tear.
for she's merely just the girl by the river wh olives in anger and fear.
2006-11-30 11:35:10 · 6 answers · asked by 321 3 in Arts & Humanities ➔ Philosophy
Great rhyme scheme, although "own" doesn't rhyme with "frown" or "down"
"yr" should be your.
"wh" should be why (par. 10)
"wh" should be who (par. 11)
you should make "u" you.
"Sh'e" should be she.
"i" should be I
"t" should be to.
New lines should start with a Capital letter
2006-11-30 11:42:56 · answer #1 · answered by Anonymous · 2⤊ 0⤋
Yeah, check your spelling!
Pretty dark!! I don't like either, but it is just a personal matter of taste. I don't care to read of misery and pain, I'd rather do what I can to help alleviate these things than spend time reading downers.
2006-12-01 02:09:20 · answer #2 · answered by June smiles 7 · 1⤊ 0⤋
the first one is quite good,,but not the best.. if i would suggest a title.. maybe "What If".. hekhek.. it shows!
the second one is okay..it concentrated much on a story-type of a poem.. but i think a poem is more effective if u use rhyme words..or if not, you should be careful in the organization of thoughts.. did you made it?.. kip it up.. improve and develop yourself..
2006-11-30 11:44:52 · answer #3 · answered by r.p. rowling 1 · 0⤊ 0⤋
I really like it.
A lot.
It's very beautiful and different.
As for the title, "Untold Occurrences"
2006-11-30 11:51:56 · answer #4 · answered by Anonymous · 0⤊ 0⤋
I love them. The second one is better, to me. As for titles for them... I don't know, sorry.
2006-12-01 09:30:06 · answer #5 · answered by Anonymous · 0⤊ 0⤋
Your work is among the better ones I've seen here so far.
But please do not write poems with shortened forms, and check your spelling.
2006-11-30 12:17:57 · answer #6 · answered by Saffren 7 · 2⤊ 0⤋