I like to write long poems. I like to read short ones, but i like to write long ones. i hope you like it. Plz... constructive criticism is MOST welcome. thanks. =p


'Twas the crisp, cold month
That kills all in its path
It shakes, blows and destroys
Those who evokes its wrath.

November greeted Starr
With the coldness of its truth.
Her happiness was marred.
Gone, forever, was her youth.

Oh, by troth, she still was young
And lovely and kind.
But no other soul on planet Earth
Could bear her distress of mind.

You ask, my dear sweet readers,
Why Starr must suffer so.
I cannot change the facts.
I just write what I know.

And so I now explain
As Starr walks stiffly down the street.
Why her nose is upturned.
And her cheeks are flushed with heat.

A certain lad bows low.
She turns her head away.
And thinks as she walks past
"He'll live to rue the day."

If she had looked at him.
Seen the sorrow in his face.
She'd know he cares not for the girl
Who had usurped her place.

'Twas a marriage of arrangement.
But Starr was full of pride.
She once gave away her heart.
But her love she must now hide.

He had called her his lovely Starr.
His bright and shining light.
Their love and soul and youth and strength
Shone through the darkest night.

"He used me and left me.
He deserves the cruelest cell.
For to steal a heart and not return it
Is a ticket down to hell."

Two years later we see Starr
Twice sadder than 'sad' defines.
Time was not so sweet to her;
It neither wisened nor refined.

As she sat upon her chair
Her memories unwinding
A messenger burst through the door
And said "Come now for he is dying."

She paused outside his door.
Her nose up and her back stiff.
Her pride called back to her
Of her long and hate filled rift.

She oped the door and smelled the smell
Of one in his final days.
She closed her eyes and wished herself
Ten thousand years away.

"Starr, my Starr, please come in."
She heard him say to her.
She felt the hate begin to melt
And slowly start to cure.

She walked to his bed
And he kissed upon her hand.
She saw the love in his eyes
That Fate had dared to ban.

"Please my Starr I'm dying.
Will you forgive me now?"
"No. I shan't forget the day
You both exchanged your vows."

"But my Starr, I'm dying.
I need you by my side.
You once said that you'd be here.
Was it just a lie?"

"I'm sorry that you're dying.
But no say have I who lives.
God takes what He will take
But also gives what He will give."

"Please, my Starr, I beg you!
Please, oh please, oh please!"
And at that moment he took her hand
And went down on bended knee.

"Goodbye old friend, I wish you well.
Have a pleasant death."
"Oh, my Starr, I'll love you
Far beyond my final breath."

He died that moment his will was gone.
He died on bended knee.
He died pleading for his chains to break.
But he did not die free.

Starr turned her back and walked on home.
She stumbled and she cried.
She cursed the day she listened to
The folly of her pride.

They found her body on his grave;
But her soul was six feet under.
That no man, no woman, nor child
Could ever put asunder.

Yes, my dear sweet readers,
Yes, they both did die.
Death came and tied a firmer knot
Than their love could ever tie.

Poetry by SarB09
Read 980 times
Written on 2009-01-06 at 00:09

Tags Pride  Love  Death 

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Rob Graber
A tale of woe, well told!

Seems like they both suffered from the same pride, a slight twist on romeo and juliet I would say, but at least he passed on his seed and she made her way through his barriers in life. , made her heavenly date. Welcome to the bay of poetry in emotion, smiling at you, TAi