6/8/11
If believing
would save me
And hope
bring back sweet dreams
Must I embrace
the sorrows
that slowly drown me,
in a sea of agony?
Each unhealed wound
Reopens old scars
Surviving in a world
Where I'll never belong
Sweet lips
with a thin coat of salt
Kiss softly
every single cut
Dare I love,
and ignore the hate?
Wishing for warmth
in cold's embrace
A loss too great
I rather forget...
It's far too late
to save
what has been condemned.
Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.
Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
|---|---|---|
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
| Shadow | 0 | 10/04/2011 |
| Deep Thought | 0 | 10/04/2011 |
| Something Uncommon | 1 | 10/04/2011 |
| Short Story -10/1/11- | 0 | 10/04/2011 |
| Alive in My Soul | 0 | 10/04/2011 |
| When I Cry | 1 | 10/04/2011 |
| Last Wall -9/28/11- | 0 | 10/04/2011 |
| My Sanity -10/16/10- | 2 | 10/03/2011 |
| 6/8/11 | 0 | 10/03/2011 |
| 2/27/11 | 0 | 10/03/2011 |
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