Blissful Ignorance

ok this topic went down the hole maybe i might start a new one this one may or may not still be here when i do

EMPTY VOID

a deep pit of sorrow
the trench of unending anguish
what once was full
but now a empty zone
the black hole of destruction

being that all is lost
no chance of repair
remains are limited
and fit through the eye of a needle
alone in deep solutude of silence

locked away from the world ...

basically

i need to write more

these are all junk and thrown togather i need to think out something and then i might be able to call myself a poet until then i am a wanta be poet

ps how about that book you are writing how is it coming remember to send me a copy of it

solitude

you see the true and wish to help
but all that happens is that you felt
alone with none to be with you
you see the answer and try to react
while behide your back they make a pact
it flips alround and upside down
till all that is left is just your frown
they shut you in with no light
while ...

ok back agian one sec putting up one as you read this

ok hope work goes well for you and i will work on putting up the next poem soon

easy dont get angery because if you get angery i loss the only person i chat with here

i dont understand your comment clearly

i find myself nowhere near as = to anyone or any thing i just write and not very while but to be compare as so when people how no me think nothing of the sort and not to say you are the only reappearing visittor to post often enough shows that the virdict is ...

this is new and fresh

hidden

the unaudiable sound of your voice
for how i wish it to deflate so fast
as i draw faster near the future
i can only hold the past
as that single moment resides inside me
i wish to let out the terany that was taken in
the evil i hold i want no more
than for you died ...

i will but why are my peoms so good "for if it were a rose and called be another name would it not smell as sweet" THAT romeo juliet but why my poems others such as your self are so much better than me