This doesn't mean anything really. Just something I thought of at the time and decided to write something and post it.
I hear the noises,
All the bad things,
I wished never happened,
Why can't they escape me?,
Everything is being replayed in my mind,
Like a video,
That's taped the same thing,
over and over,
The noise seems louder to me,
These memories are still replaying,
Why couldn't memories just be an image?,
Like an image in a photograph,
It's all building up on me,
The videos are speeding up,
And now...,
Silence,
The replays are gone,
And the throbs stopped,
Maybe it was a dream,
Or a warning,
Or reminder,
Of mistakes,
And the consequences.
Poetry by Brenna
Read 568 times
Written on 2005-11-10 at 23:27
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Replays
There are throbs in my head,I hear the noises,
All the bad things,
I wished never happened,
Why can't they escape me?,
Everything is being replayed in my mind,
Like a video,
That's taped the same thing,
over and over,
The noise seems louder to me,
These memories are still replaying,
Why couldn't memories just be an image?,
Like an image in a photograph,
It's all building up on me,
The videos are speeding up,
And now...,
Silence,
The replays are gone,
And the throbs stopped,
Maybe it was a dream,
Or a warning,
Or reminder,
Of mistakes,
And the consequences.
Poetry by Brenna
Read 568 times
Written on 2005-11-10 at 23:27
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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