yes, almost all of my poems are dreary but they are well made if i do sayso my self. it would really please me if you commented and liked my peoms that i slaved away at. i always insist that my works are perfect. enjoy!
- Created By momo and kiro
in the blackest place - poem
In a pitch dark room,
In the blackest place,
I’m Locked in a room,
And going insane.
The darkest black, is all I see,
And no light can enter this room,
A person of black ice appears,
Speaking freezing cold words.
These ugly words,
Mangle my soul,
Echo in my head,
And mess with my mind.
My body is weak,
I can’t move at all,
I am trapped in this dark place,
Where the only color is,
Black
an ode to a dog in the road -poem
A dog in the street,
Crossing without worries,
No one is coming,
He is in plain sight.
A car comes fast,
Not even slowing,
It sees in the street,
On the flat land.
Crash! Thud!
A dog has fallen,
The car never slowed,
It stood no chance.
It had a family,
And a home,
The children so sad,
The dog’s life is broken.
It won’t get up,
And never again will it move,
From the side of the road,
Where the noble dog fell.
The body is still warm,
As it starts to rain,
And everything is wet,
Except the place where he lays.
And the havens wept,
For the loss of life.
you will suffer like me
As lay on the floor,
My eyes must be wrong,
You wouldn’t do this,
Not to me.
I lay here in blood,
This cant be your doing,
My eyes must be wrong,
Everything’s a bit blurry.
I won’t believe,
That you did this,
My eyes are failing,
And I can hardly see.
I must have been wrong,
My subconscious if fading,
Into the black oblivion,
Of nothingness.
I won’t ever come out ,
If I fall in, so I flee,
I catch a glimpse of your face,
And reach for your back.
You turn around ,
And on your face,
Is a sick smile,
And you’re covered in blood.
My blood,
Dark and red,
How could you do this?
I’m still in denial.
How could you cut me down?
I thought I knew you,
I was obviously wrong,
But I won’t let you go.
I hold you tight,
And as you stand there,
Laughing at me,
In your sick way.
I grasp the dagger,
That you had used on me,
And embracing you tightly,
And I stab you from behind.
Because if I’m going to die,
At your hands,
Then I’m going to take you with me,
And you will suffer like me.
time
Time is odd,
And it’s out of control,
It goes to fast,
Or it goes to slow.
It can’t make up its mind,
To stop or go,
To be kind to the old,
It doesn’t know.
Should it go fast for the young?
Slow for the old?
Or should it go just like normal,
As it was told?
Should it just stop,
No clocks ticking,
It’s so indecisive,
Emotions conflicting.
It goes slow when you’re waiting,
And fast when you’re having fun,
But time only stops,
When you’re dead and done.
if you had eyes like mine -poem
If you had eyes like mine,
Youwould be able to see me.
If you had eyes like mine,
You would be able to know me.
If you had eyes like mine,
You would know the pain.
If you had eyes like mine,
You would know the hatred and neglect.
If you had eyes like mine,
You would remember the feeling of lonlyness.
If you had eyes like mine,
You would remember the feeling of fear.
If you had eyes like mine,
You would be able to look me straight in the eyes without flinching,
and see my whole life,
And it would be just like yours
