No Poetry

by Jacki   Nov 19, 2004



I've come to the conclusion that my words
really don't mean anything other than
ink spots painted upon a blank canvas.

No fortune to be made, a lonely highway
at the end of this road is a dead end valley.
So I feel like its time to turn around.

Always spilling my heart out into what I feel
words are my birds that tap upon my window.
Whether I let them in or I let them go.

But my words are meaning less to me
and my heart is begnining to feel sorrow
I think its time for me to finally go away.

The blood red illusions only make me
stray farther away from what I already know.
Reasons I receive all tell me the same fortune.

Everything I already know
My words don't have meaning behind
the black ink painted with the red glow.

Meaningless words on my my meaningless canvas

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Latest Comments

  • 20 years ago

    by alex

    I think that I understand what you mean. Words are not capable of expressing the pure emotions we wish people could feel

  • 20 years ago

    by Jacki

    I thought I might explain this poem....The red that glows from the paper is the red ink from a pen. Its from a poets point of view. An editor had circled up his page making it look like its bleeding. Changing the whole meaning behind it. So he feels like giving up hope for his poem is nothing more than an ink spot painted with the red cicrles.......

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