If you want to be with me,
then be with me.
Don't keep looking for something
so well hidden
even I have lost hold
of it's cold fingertips.
If you're searching for perfection,
then you're already lost.
The Eden, the garden of wonders
has long blossomed
and died.
There lays here nothing beautiful,
except truth.
If all you've imagined is me,
then where is your mind.
I'm broken.
I'm lost.
I'm burried behind walls
so high even I can't escape.
So, let me ask you this...
If you want to be with me,
then why?
31/03/09
Hi Viola. I'm very touched by this one. I normally write comedy, but retain a serious side. This is short and to the point. It is also well crafted and asks searching questions. Truly enjoyed. So much said in such little space is a mark of a good poet. Each word works for you. Kind Regards Steve
yes; truth that breeds grief is never beautiful...hardening walls....trapped, yet calling for calmness inside....good write...10
because you are Viola Grey. There lays here nothing beautiful, except truth. wise words there my friend... good job. Becca
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is truly a work of art, the hairs on the back of my neck stood on edge as I read it 10 is not enough