Envy.
While i sit here ina small vast of emptiness of this room.
i lay here in the cosp of insanity,
while the black and white of my mind meld into a subtle grey,
staring out as the wind passes by,
i am overcomed with envy.
A unlimited choice of life without bounds,
no boarders,
unlimited possibilities that sucome to my will
and make it to what i wish,
a lone heart, a hollow shell of what was my former being,
while i sit here -n- stare away in my envious glance
knight4696 commented on Envy.
01-26-2011
12-30-2010
07-28-2010
04-26-2010
04-19-2010
05/30/2010
A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.
Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
|---|---|---|
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
| Wayward heart | 0 | 07/18/2012 |
| unfinished. | 4 | 12/18/2010 |
| Envy. | 5 | 04/19/2010 |
| These Embers | 4 | 04/08/2010 |
| Ode To Frustration | 6 | 01/29/2010 |
| untitled | 6 | 01/29/2010 |
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