Sunday, 3 February 2013

Soft. Lots of It.

I'm feeling very fragile today. Soft.
Like a cloud.
I will write a poem about feeling fragile.

The Song of Soft

What if I can’t
            mend this tender heart?
How many drifting days
            to heal these scars?
Please don’t go back to sleep.
I miss you already.
Kiss me, gently.
Pick me up, lightly.
Carry me, tearfully.
            Don’t drop me.
            We all float down.

Ed Sheeran is a wonderful person. Because he is very original.
I will try to be original.

Kingdom of Disgrace

On the shores of the saltiest stream
Liv’d a young woman of bizarre
She told her stories with a dead tongue
And a heavy heart
She knew the legends of when sorrow reigned
Her walls were filled with stories
Of conspiracies and theories and fallen kings
Kept alive by feeble lungs and whispering allegories.
One night he came, a dark night it was, and he chose to kill them all
One by one, the stories feel dead
As did the young woman of bizarre
But this wasn’t the end, for the troublesome stories led on
Their lives of uncanny immortality
They live in the hearts of you and I
Distressing the demons, the angels, and lastly, the fallen enemy.
You sing the song, but it is a story
The most famous story of them all
It tells the story of a woman of bizarre
Who wasn’t dead at all.

Yes. I feel soft.
Despite the tumble and echoing crashes of my rhymes which do not make sense.
I like this feeling.

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