Two poems. Do enjoi, if ye can help it.
Posted: Tue Sep 23, 2008 11:10 pm
These are a couple of poems I wrote for a class a while ago. The first one was pretty much just 'write a poem' (we had to include as many different poetic forms as we could, AKA rhymes, slants, alliteration, etc.), and the second one was a sonnet in iambic pentameter. Both wound up just about whatever came to mind. Don't expect me to reply to anything you say, though. I'm just back here for a minute, and then it's back off to my dreams.
Crying Myself to Sleep
I try so hard
Not to cry myself to sleep
I can’t help but keep
This secret to myself
I’m so sad
So sorry
So sick of my fears
Of my tears
Of my thrice-blasted ears
That hear every word
Everything everyone says
All the right
All the wrong
So I swear that I’ll try
Once more, not to cry
Myself to sleep
Just a Dream
I look into your eyes and all I see
Is life and love and good and everything
So long, I’ve tried, to find a way to be
Exactly what you want; to cry and sing!
But, even though I’ll never be that one
I’ll still continue on and to the end
I’ll go on loving you ‘til days are done
And when, to me, the Death has come to tend
When ended has my time forevermore
Then, even dead, I’ll find a way to care
For loving you could never be a chore
But until then my love for you I’ll bear
I do not mind; it doesn’t hinder much
It is enough to dream just for your touch
Quoth the one called Ethiclese (that's me!)
Ta!
Crying Myself to Sleep
I try so hard
Not to cry myself to sleep
I can’t help but keep
This secret to myself
I’m so sad
So sorry
So sick of my fears
Of my tears
Of my thrice-blasted ears
That hear every word
Everything everyone says
All the right
All the wrong
So I swear that I’ll try
Once more, not to cry
Myself to sleep
Just a Dream
I look into your eyes and all I see
Is life and love and good and everything
So long, I’ve tried, to find a way to be
Exactly what you want; to cry and sing!
But, even though I’ll never be that one
I’ll still continue on and to the end
I’ll go on loving you ‘til days are done
And when, to me, the Death has come to tend
When ended has my time forevermore
Then, even dead, I’ll find a way to care
For loving you could never be a chore
But until then my love for you I’ll bear
I do not mind; it doesn’t hinder much
It is enough to dream just for your touch
Quoth the one called Ethiclese (that's me!)
Ta!