Having to support a friend when they are doing something that you wish they would not do.
Fills my abyss,
Happy faces hold somber tones,
My weakened heart moans,
Curses and swears conduct my lullaby,
I let out an elated sigh,
Grit my teeth and laugh in glee,
For no one shall see,
The tantalizing devil inside me,
What once brought me delight,
Is now simple spite,
I feel gravity, dragging me down,
In a great lie, I am bound,
Love my troubles, hate my fight,
Somebody, please shed some light!
I will not bite my tongue,
I will not be stung,
By the killer bee,
Inside me,
But I do,
All the while trying to be true,
To my friend,
Should I bend,
Or should I brake,
My thoughts on the matter are not easy to take,
And it's not my place to say,
I suppose I should obey,
My heart,
With the dart,
Piercing the core,
I'll let her open that door,
Leave me here,
With only a goodbye and a leer,
To remember her by,
Our friendship might die,
And I might have to live a lie,
But she'll rise high,
Above the clouds,
As much as this plows,
Through my soul,
She will be whole,
So, I guess that's okay,
I'll play.
Poetry by Brielle Guesstell
Read 426 times
Written on 2007-02-19 at 16:36
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Gagged
Pleasure of sadness,Fills my abyss,
Happy faces hold somber tones,
My weakened heart moans,
Curses and swears conduct my lullaby,
I let out an elated sigh,
Grit my teeth and laugh in glee,
For no one shall see,
The tantalizing devil inside me,
What once brought me delight,
Is now simple spite,
I feel gravity, dragging me down,
In a great lie, I am bound,
Love my troubles, hate my fight,
Somebody, please shed some light!
I will not bite my tongue,
I will not be stung,
By the killer bee,
Inside me,
But I do,
All the while trying to be true,
To my friend,
Should I bend,
Or should I brake,
My thoughts on the matter are not easy to take,
And it's not my place to say,
I suppose I should obey,
My heart,
With the dart,
Piercing the core,
I'll let her open that door,
Leave me here,
With only a goodbye and a leer,
To remember her by,
Our friendship might die,
And I might have to live a lie,
But she'll rise high,
Above the clouds,
As much as this plows,
Through my soul,
She will be whole,
So, I guess that's okay,
I'll play.
Poetry by Brielle Guesstell
Read 426 times
Written on 2007-02-19 at 16:36
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text