Angels of The Poetic

by Ian Robert   Dec 19, 2004


All of them my angels,
Who guide me with their words,
I cannot stand this distorted home,
So while you judge me,
I want you to know whats inside,
Maybe I am twisted and my mind may be broken.

Your speach like the fire that melts the ice that entraps me within its greed ridden fists.

All of them my angels,
Watching from some were I cant eee,
I wrote this to them,
So perhaps they could look,
Into a little bit of my fantasy,
Were I am protected,
When you look from way up were I cant see.

Dedicated to Pinkalias... *Smiles

Ian Robert Potapoff

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Latest Comments

  • 19 years ago

    by ~DyingBlackRose~

    wow...good job ttyl

  • 20 years ago

    by pinkalias

    wow, I am very touched and honored that your poem was dedicated to me. I must say it was a lovely piece of work, and a true effort to rlive hope to the readers.
    "Your speach like the fire that melts the ice that entraps me within its greed ridden fists."
    i thought that line was just absolutly amazing. Incredibly beautiful, thank you, this meant alot to me.

  • 20 years ago

    by Your eyeliner is laughable

    Wow. Genius. Pure talent, Continue to write,please.

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