Don't have an account? Create one!

A pocket full of poetry.

Bleeding on the Floor
Age: -
Gender: -
Posts: 1448
May 25th, 2009 at 11:27am
Well, I only have two complete poems at the moment, but I'm hoping to post more and develop my writing skills and so forth.

Please feel welcome to comment, give advise or ask anything. I'm hoping to improve with time and update with new ones from time to time.

My English Love

I love you with all my heart,
I just never knew what to say,
now that you've just seemed to drift away,
I just seem to fall apart,
inside of course,
for no one to see my misery,
I don't think they would care.

I'm a fool to say I love you.
in so many a different way.
Your twinkling eyes,
and drawn out smile,
have vanished for a while.

I doubt you ever think of me,
the way I think of you,
years apart,
but still my heart,
is longing for a piece of you.

Maybe in the summertime,
you'll sit under that same spot,
glare at me and smile,
like we've never been apart.

However I have a confession,
one not easy to convey,
I'm not who you think I am,
I hope by then I will be,
changed in a way,
the way I want to be.

Forget the past my love,
for there is nothing for you to see,
I was naive that time,
it was never meant to be.

I hate to think I cannot be,
of any worth,
to you, to me.

What if I was more like her?
Oh God I wish you'd be,
the one to make me happy,
promise to drown my misery.

I'll probably dream of this,
in my past time,
somewhere far from here,
sitting in my chair,
finding it hard to bear,
dried out tears running to my hands,
my heart sunk down low,
lonely days of sorrow,
just thinking of you, probably.

I'm scared this world is much too big,
for you to get carried away,
it will never be easy,
but I do not wish to care,
for memories of happiness,
are only there for despair,
fading so silently.

So, my distant heart,
is it ever meant to be?
You and me forever,
the way it ought to be.

We'll meet again, my love,
under that old oak tree?
My doubts are high however,
maybe not the place you'll be.

If I manage to get there,
I do hope you see,
me there amongst the crowd,
of a living, breathing sea.
For Camden town my love,
is the place for you and me.


Take it in.
The sweet summer air,
listen to the bird's song,
let the whispering wind,
caress your fair skin,
For you are free.

Set your eyes,
upon the velvety drapes of moss,
see the sun dance,
on the surface of the stream,
breath in darling,
for you are alive.

Whispered words of love and lust,
the wind snatches from my lips,
as it sails amongst the bracken.

No one can hear me.
No one is listening.

This serene dwelling,
is all I have,
the bird's song,
a choir,
but I am choked,
unable to sing,
the sweet melodic chorus,
to entice you once again.

This summer offers it's love,
will you not offer it yours?