A Poet's Solitary Confinement.

by forevertobeart   Apr 8, 2009


I can hear the fan spin,
as my eyes gaze at the night lamp.
Shadows dance beyond painted walls,
tuning in with the increasing rate of my heartbeat.
My breath struggles to survive for life,
ink disappears all of a sudden,
barring thoughts to overflow from mind,
holding numbness of my hand as I write.
Desperation in every attempt to throw away
whatever there is, trapped within.

Hallucinations go further,
to wish the night lamp to be moonlight,
wind from the fan, a breeze,
and my heart would be the ripples
of the water flowing to form ink.
Ink of my heart bleeding to plead
motion from my hand, and the numbness
reacts to silence filled everywhere,
in this room, deep within...

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Latest Comments

  • 15 years ago

    by Michael D Nalley

    I mean depth

  • 15 years ago

    by Michael D Nalley

    Again the imagery is delivered well in this fre flowing poem filled with poetic debth

  • 15 years ago

    by Nobodys Hero

    This is a really good short descriptive piece =] Your very good with how you word your poetry, the futher i read on the involved i feel as your descriptions draw me in!

  • 15 years ago

    by Hollymariee

    I can hear the fan spin,
    For some reason this line stood out as awkward from the whole poem . I have no idea why , maybe it's just the wording . Otherwise i really like it , the imagery is really interesting . Well done , 5/5

  • 15 years ago

    by CanUKissAwayMyPain

    I can hear the fan spin,
    as my eyes gaze at the night lamp.
    Shadows dance beyond painted walls,
    tuning in with the increasing rate of my heartbeat.

    ^I realie like how you put your word together here. it gives me a mellow feelin you know. realie nice. =]

    My breath struggles to survive for life,
    ink disappears all of a sudden,
    barring thoughts to overflow from mind,
    holding numbness of my hand as I write.
    Desperation in every attempt to throw away
    whatever there is, trapped within.

    ^wow this is very imaginie. i pictured a butterfly caught in a net n tryin to escape but cant =(

    Hallucinations go further,
    to wish the night lamp to be moonlight,
    wind from the fan, a breeze,
    and my heart would be the ripples
    of the water flowing to form ink.

    ^wow this was an amzing part here.

    Ink of my heart bleeding to plead
    motion of my hand, and the numbness
    reacts to silence filled everywhere,
    in this room, deep within...

    ^nice way of closing your poem here i like it. you did an amzing write here. i realie for me wouldnt change a thing. keep it up!
    5/5

    TaKe CaRe,
    Frenchy