Nobody listens to me anyway.
So I'll speak of everything I think and feel.
No need for fear of someone hearing me in this cruel world.
In this world full of hate.
Hate worries me.
Not to feel it or be hated.
No, I don't fear that.
I fear that hate far outnumbers love.
The most beautiful thing in the world.
Over-ruled by something so hideous.
What if my life is filled with hate's ugliness?
And not by love's beauty.
That's what worries me.
What if the one person who could love me right is engulfed in hate's flame?
Can I fight it off with the passion of love?
Another thing that over-rules love.
If my love doesn't lose to hate it loses to lust.
Will it forever be this way?
Will I never find love because I first won't give my body?
Human nature, I suppose.
Am I babbling?
For once I'm letting the truth inside me truy find it's way out.
No worries about rhyme or rhythym
-Just what's inside.
Just what's inside that I don't let out too often.
Why can I never say all I want to or all I feel I should say?
A fear of someone actually hearing me.
Hearing my heart.
But why does that scare me?
Why can't I accept the fact that someone might actually care about all I
think and feel?
This I don't have an answer to right now.
It's probably buried too deep inside of me.
People have said that I must be a deep person because I write.
A deep thinker with deep feelings.
Ina way that makes me feel good-then confused.
Am I deep?
Yes, most poetry is depth, but is mine-at all?
Someone once said "We do not desire what we cannot understand"
Poetry-not all of it is understood, but it's still desired.
That's all I really have to say about that.
-Why is it we most desire that which is forbidden or frowned upon by others
or just plain wrong?
Well, wrong in the eyes of others anyway.
Like a relationship for instance.
But the fact that the thought of it being so horrible to one of my close
friends has me scared to try.
It shouldn't be that way.
It's such a sin in her eyes.
But I think I just may give into him anyway.
He who has become so close to me in such a short period of time.
I love it when he holds me
-when he talks with me
-when he looks at me
-when he's here
He says he understands and respects my sexual morals.
-But so did all the others.
The others that have hurt me.
He told me I don't have to worry about pain with him.
I want to believe him and I think I might.
But so many people lie these days.
And so many people get so use to lieing that it becomes all they speak.
I'll still have hope though.
Hope that there still is honesty.
hope that there is a deeper meaning to this life than I see now.
Hope that the right now forbidden is the future good in my life.
Hope that all my fears die.
Hope that there still is true love.
Hope that nobody, still, is listening.
Comments on this poem/writing:
|LinzAy (22.214.171.124) -- Thursday, October 16 2003, 08:53 pm|
Woohoo....nobody, still, is listening! heh heh....uh...anyway.
|Pamela (126.96.36.199) -- Friday, October 17 2003, 02:42 am|
Someone is listening alright LinzAy - and she knows exactly what this feels like. All the time. Every person. All around you.
To be honest, I began writing poetry to get it all out when nobody would listen.
And I'm still writing, and so are all these people....
So maybe we are all just hoping that nobody is listening :O)
|LinzAy (188.8.131.52) -- Monday, October 20 2003, 10:03 pm|
Yea...i began writing bc i didn't want ppl to listen or know exactly what i was feeling or when. But I don't mind ppl reading my thoughts and feelings. Us poets are confusing sometimes aren't we?
|Neil (184.108.40.206) -- Saturday, January 17 2004, 05:53 pm|
reading, relating and respecting
|LinzAy (220.127.116.11) -- Sunday, January 25 2004, 10:08 pm|
Click here to read other Poems by LinzAy
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