sky of blue and black

6 Comments

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  • Lost Love

    sky of blue and black

    they sky of blue and black
    the heart will never be
    hope and dream is now a wack
    and it hurt to see

    lately i want to cry
    i lost someone to the blue and black sky
    hoping that you and me be there
    wondering when we be a family to be here

    now i am wanting to be with you
    but you and i lost someone to the blue and black sky
    the person i was wish to see you once new
    now i want to think of lies

    to make you happy i would be there when you need me
    let us cry together
    while the sky when they are to we
    but we have mean everything

    while i think of my last breathe of thinking
    but while i sit here havnig stuff on my mind
    my heart as been sinking
    wild it is hard to find

    sky of blue and black regret the day
    when they took my family away
    can you be there to see and stay
    but look at those body how it lay

    cry with me
    to see what i see
    the time spent take us years to make we
    now dieing is not the way to seek thee

    you know you have me
    but even though your son is in the sky of blue and black
    you know my feeling right now is out of wack
    i want to be there and say these word with you in thee

    I CURSE YOU THE SKY OF BLUE AND BLACK
    CURSE THE IN HOPE OF DREAM OF FAMILY
    YOU TOOK OUR FAMILY AWAY

    by.
    cass
    aka randa
    clw

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    Tanyabell commented on sky of blue and black

    04-08-2009

    wow its dark

    TheAngelOfDeath commented on sky of blue and black

    04-01-2009

    good poem i like the diffent angle you take at poetry.

    tammiesmith commented on sky of blue and black

    03-31-2009

    Very nice...

    GingerBenjamin commented on sky of blue and black

    03-27-2009

    I like it very deep

    ShawnaD commented on sky of blue and black

    03-27-2009

    awww :( so sad but so deep very good :)

    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.

    randa’s Poems (17)