I am writing this alive and with a fever,
'cause I needs to sweat out the virus
and breathe calmly without choking, for once.
I am writing this and hoping that its meaning,
my meaning, THE meaning
will mean something to you now.
That's why all poets and madmen
scrape together enough bitterness
to address their anti-love-letters to ' you'-
as though the reader, any random lover,
is the one intended to be pinpointed, blacklisted then destroyed.
You know them, the ones always crying,
asking for spare sense to make change...
' I didn't see this coming'
It's so sad how some people
are just innocent bystanders
reading the morning newspaper-
when they just happen to look up to see
reality smacking them upside the head.
'you've got the wrong man'
only because they right man's dead.
So, I won't say I love you 'cause
those words mean more than something now-
and I won't say I miss you 'cause
it gets lost in translation.
But if I know you like I think I knew you,
you'll be reading between the lines right about now,
sipping your morning coffee and thinking
of something far more important than the sound of my voice.
But I know you'll read this 'cause
there are a million other fish in the sea
and everyone of them are titled ' you'
and they act and look just like 'you'
I hope you don't mind
I can't quite bring myself to address this to your name.
Amberlee, I also enjoyed this poem. Firstly, I love the title and thet is what drew me to read it. My favourite stanza is: - 'I am writing this and hoping that its meaning, my meaning, THE meaning will mean something to you now'. I thought that was very clever. Thanks Amberlee Gypsy
I really liked this poem, especially this part: 'So, I won't say I love you 'cause those words mean more than something now- and I won't say I miss you 'cause it gets lost in translation.' simply stunning! well done for this lovely poem! ! ! HBH
I love it when someone gives you a low rating and doesn't even leave a comment as to how to improve your writing...lol
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
All earnest and tryful Clutching their pitiful morning Daily news Slipped on the ice and fell Both inside Five minutes And I cried, I cried. Just struck a familiar chord. I like this in a halting sort of way. Parts of it rang truer than others but I liked it.