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Bliss
Your keen eyes upon the moon,
The echoes of a graceful loon.
Your soft hand upon my breast,
Your lips quiver as I appear to rest.
A single tear from your lashes,
My eyes no longer flashes.
You, a statue that once stood.
If I could awake you know I would.
The clouds move in and bring bitter rain,
And you know that they will not wash away the pain.
My skin is as cold as stone.
I am a bird who has never flown.
People bustle around, whom I did not know,
Like a wind that will never blow.
They watch, they stare.
But what do I care?
For now… I am asleep.
~SR~
- by LittleNewcomb |
- Poetry And Lyrics
- | Submitted on 01/23/2009 |
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- Title: Bliss
- Artist: LittleNewcomb
- Description: death is full of bliss... or is that chicken?
- Date: 01/23/2009
- Tags: bliss sanguineravencroft
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Comments (5 Comments)
- Sesskogaru - 08/03/2009
- hmmmmmmmmmmm...that would definately be chicken. XD Nice poem and all. Wish I could go out like that but the Death that I know of is very cruel and creative in many ways. D: But keep your poem and keep up the good work. wink
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- LittleNewcomb - 01/23/2009
- the person in the poem is supposed to be a child... basically me when i was young...
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- dr shrunk - 01/23/2009
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i read it again and it's really good, but i dont really undestand it
who is the one that died? - Report As Spam
- dr shrunk - 01/23/2009
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thats really good i think the word choices are really good too. im an ok writer but ur way better! i'll rate yours a 5/5
also if u have time can you read my stuff ty - Report As Spam
- beachgoer - 01/23/2009
- it's really good now that i understand what you're trying to say. at the end it gets a little sketchy for me..i see what you're going for but the "bird who has never flown" and "wind that will never blow" is a little confusing. Are you trying to say that you as the narrator died too young ever to have really lived? or are you trying to say something else and i'm just not getting it?
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