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Wednesday, December 3, 2008

I Dont Know What To Name This Poem

                                              A soft cry in the night the tears are so heavy and u cant bear it it makes you crazy you wish you could some how tare it tare it from the path that  once laying  on the ground  make it come up as if it were a piece of cotton uprooted but flourishing away never touching the ground
The sounds of the fire pricking in the night what was bright now seems dark the cries of a child, when her world is down  the fire clinches the wood  turning the wood for brown to smothering gray  with black ashes that fill the day(thats the feeling that she  gets.) but then it a new day and what was dark now seem bright, and it going to be okay. 
The mellow low wind passes by giving u a shiver down your spine. makes your weak knees ache as thought you were famished with out food for days your heart skips a beat, dropping so cold, the eerie weather makes you feel low. What you thought you knew is now gone cause you feel along. You swiftly dropp to your knees begging, pleading and  praying that somebody will come and pick you, you yell and you beg PICK ME UP PICK ME UP but it is merely a faint sound because no one can hear. It's because it is just your sole not your words that are crying out loud. The mere cries of pick me up slowly faints in to the echo of the sound that sparred across the  land that once shine do bright now exists with a faint light.
It is you, it is you I say, it is you that have let you downon your own shame now it is you  that take a gilt trip back to memory  lane.  Remember  the pain  and hardship you had. remember and the trials and tribulations that have come to pass.  The pain that you have caused to others not to mention your self. You have committed the sin that have caused us all to have to make amends  to face the battle that you have put before us now we have to win the war. We fight so that your black days don't become our chore.
areion antoine
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