Its all coming back to me
The way it was before
This pain is so intense
You can't feel it anymore
It becomes your second nature
It becomes a part of life
They no longer seem to exist
meaning of suffering and strife
You know that they use you
You suffer each night and day
For shoulder you always needed
The price you agreed to pay
It tears you from the inside
It cuts you down and deep
Buried under heaps of sorrow
You're denied of peaceful sleep
Life's full of wasted old feelings
put into prose and verse
But when the doomsday comes
atleast get me a new hearse
4 comments:
Why does such a talented boy calls himself 'gonecase'? Defeats me, pal.
Fantastic work.
Thanks!
Haha, thanks my friend, am not talented. But on a second thought, someone talented can be gonecase as well :D
good effort!
I have noticed that most of your poetry talks of pain and sorrow. Maybe you could look at that experience in a different way, rather than making a general statement ofbeing buried under "heaps of sorrow".
A lot of things can upset people.What is it that has touched or disturbed you in particular?Perhaps you could look at other experiences.
Thanks a lot.
Well, there is nothing specific which can be considered quotable as something but third stanza hints about me writing such stupid things.
I am glad that you visited. keep visiting :)
Post a Comment