Blur

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Tags:
  • Sadness
    • ,
  • Poetry
    • ,
  • Lost Love

    Blur

    Days pass into weeks,

    Weeks begin to blur,

    Nothing ever changes

    My thoughts begin to stir,

    You go behind my back,

    Take this life away,

    Is there something better?

    I can't take another day

     

    Sometimes it's hard to see,

    If there's good inside of you,

    I could change everything about me,

    And it still wouldn't be good enough

     

    All this time spent,

    These blood, swear, and tears,

    Far more tears than the rest,

    To confirm my fears,

    That you never cared at all,

    No matter how hard i tried,

    I would die if you said it,

    I love you, although you lied

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    Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

    Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

    wordsunspoken’s Poems (11)

    Title Comments Submitted
    Title Comments Submitted
    Needles, Scalpels, and other forms of Love 0 10/22/2010
    Torn Me Apart 2 09/13/2009
    Lost 0 09/06/2009
    Blur 0 09/05/2009
    One 0 09/05/2009
    Dreaming 0 06/16/2009
    The Weight of the World 2 06/02/2009
    Choices 0 06/02/2009
    What You've Done 3 06/02/2009
    Memory 0 06/02/2009
    Misconception 1 06/02/2009
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