That Night...

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That Night...

My name is not important, but my face you won't forget.

I'll haunt you in your deepest sleep,

You'll wake up, dripping sweat.

And in the darkness of your room, the shadows I will creep.



You see me in the hallways, you cannot get away.

On the face of everyone you meet,

My image will not stray.

My cheap cologne, you said you loved, now don't smell so sweet.



Memories of that dreaded night, It started out so good,

Your high school crush just asked you out,

Of course, you said you would.

Tonight's the night that you would know, exactly what I 'm about.



I picked you up at eight oclock, for dinner and a show,

You wore your bright red dress,

your eyes were all aglow.

We sat up at the bluff, I felt your warm caress.



But when I wanted more and more, you quickly changed your mind.

It made me lose my self control,

I took what wasn't mine.

And left you with my memory, embroidered to your soul.

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Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

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Gonzo’s Poems (17)

Title Comments
Title Comments
She Cried (new version) 0
Along The Wooded Path 3
Overcome 2
The Mistress 2
The Storm 0
Siren Song 0
Numbness Unknown 1
Sympathetic Schizophrenic 2
That Night... 0
Love and Hate 0
Lost Friend 0
Young Prince 1
Will You Be There? 0
'Til Death Do Us Part 3
Consumed 1
Where Are My Friends? 1
Moshpit 1