Romeo - Poem by Ryan Holmes
Our Romeo snuck in the tomb
Not waiting for his Juliet.
Yet knowing his impending doom,
He sat on the cold floor and wept.
He sealed the way to keep him in
To make sure that he'd not back out.
Though candles burned, the light was dim,
Fore death darkened the crypt about.
He saw his death waiting for him,
The poison that he would consume,
To still his heart, and life and limb.
To kill this love, so young in bloom.
An acrid taste, this vile fluid,
His death would be long and drawn out.
His mouth was left cold and arid.
The pain was sharp, proof by his pout
But wait, the pain had since fled him.
Was he not dead? What must he do?
He saw something that shined and glimmed,
He need take her death-bringer too.
the blade, he prayed, was sharp and swift.
It would perform it's death-chore quick.
He aimed, right true, straight through his heart.
The knife, It tore his skin apart.
The pain! But wait, where did it go?
The blood, though light, was there and real,
The only hurt though, was sorrow,
Yet naught but that is what he feels.
The simple irony to this,
The fact that brought him so much dread,
That he was killed by lack of bliss,
You can't kill hearts already dead.
Comments about Romeo by Ryan Holmes
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You