Idle Thought

1 Comments

Tags:
  • Sadness
    • ,
  • Dark Poetry

    Idle Thought

    I'm idle...
    drifting through the stale, stillness of my life;
    I'm like a bramble,
    with the winds of time warping and molding me;
    arms outstretched to feel the sting of love scalding me;
    barren am I...
    open to the elements which claim me,
    I twist and turn yet I prove little;
    I struggle to breath and my limbs don't move; brittle.
    Going undernourished, I've yet to flourish;
    withered and forlorn am I;
    that which has remained...I'm idle...tear stained.






    Originally written by myself, Matthew Tregear, in May of 2002. 

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    StandingBear commented on Idle Thought

    05-28-2009

    Nice continuous verses of one's self. Frozen moments in time. "Withered and forlorn am I" _______ great write. 10
    Reply to Comment

    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.

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