Might as well fall in something...
Improper line breaks, again.
her every prayer a puzzle even God can't understand.
She gradually has come to fear she'll never be in love
the way people are supposed to be. She sees pictures of
new parents with their babies, beaming proudly, hand-in-hand
and lies alone and heartsick, seeking counsel from above
praying God might grant her mercy, and send the very dove
that brought Noah safe to shore. But she cannot see the land
and gradually concludes she'll never really be in love.
She wears no shred of confidence, but doubt fits like a glove
around her mind, her throat, until she cannot breathe or stand.
She lies, alone and heartsick, and seeks counsel from above,
but receives no answer. It doesn't help when others shove
her into nothingness. Her mother's gone. She shivers, and
falls to despair, since clearly now she'll never be in love
or anything but lonely. She turns over, sighs, thinks of
someday being happy. Says "It will happen, and be grand."
But she lies. Alone and heartsick, no counsel from above,
she gradually accepts that she will never be in love.
Poetry by Sun.Moon.Stars.Rain
Read 534 times
Written on 2008-12-11 at 05:02
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
Improper line breaks, again.
Into Nothingness
She lies alone and heartsick, seeking counsel from above,her every prayer a puzzle even God can't understand.
She gradually has come to fear she'll never be in love
the way people are supposed to be. She sees pictures of
new parents with their babies, beaming proudly, hand-in-hand
and lies alone and heartsick, seeking counsel from above
praying God might grant her mercy, and send the very dove
that brought Noah safe to shore. But she cannot see the land
and gradually concludes she'll never really be in love.
She wears no shred of confidence, but doubt fits like a glove
around her mind, her throat, until she cannot breathe or stand.
She lies, alone and heartsick, and seeks counsel from above,
but receives no answer. It doesn't help when others shove
her into nothingness. Her mother's gone. She shivers, and
falls to despair, since clearly now she'll never be in love
or anything but lonely. She turns over, sighs, thinks of
someday being happy. Says "It will happen, and be grand."
But she lies. Alone and heartsick, no counsel from above,
she gradually accepts that she will never be in love.
Poetry by Sun.Moon.Stars.Rain
Read 534 times
Written on 2008-12-11 at 05:02
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
|
Morgan Cellohead |
|
Less Than I Ought |
|
Kaede |
