Another Page Burned

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  • Love

    Another Page Burned

    Here I go.

    Down this road again.

    I wound up....

    In the same place I began.



    And all my trust...

    Has crumbled before my eyes.

    It wasn't love.

    Just lust...filled with lies



    My worn out hands,

    Shake in disbelief.

    Ghosts of the past...

    Rising up from beneath.



    Ghosts of grief and sorrow.

    Breaking my bones.

    Ripping out my soul.

    My past lovers...all share a common goal.



    Where do I go from here.

    How do I bring back the light.

    Thats been missing from my life.

    Trapped in a never ending night.



    My cold heart battles back...

    And places the blame on her.

    I'll rip her apart with tact.

    She'll get was she deserves.



    But I wonder..

    When will it be enough.

    To just be in love.



    And to want nothing more...

    Than to hold...

    The one that holds your heart.



    With ignorance we search for perfect.

    It shall never be found.

    Listen closley...

    And you'll hear the blood curdeling sound.



    ...of...heart...break...this was my final mistake.



    And my pen is bled out.

    As is my soul.

    I've sung my entire heart out.

    This wretched world has turned cold.



    This smile is oh-so decieving.

    It hides my carnal lividness.

    Wilted flowers lie beneath me.

    I give out no forgiveness

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    UnworthyFather commented on Another Page Burned

    07-18-2009

    This is a very, very nice poem! I really enjoyed reading this. Excellent job. 10

    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.

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