I met a bastard today.

by Sean   Jun 26, 2005


I met a bastard today,
Standing so firm, so proud,
Burning inside, guilt of a murderer.
Such a person, to find love?
Life was not to be fair.

The bastard walks the town,
Knowing hundreds,
Fans, he told me they were,
Yet he knew, I knew he knew,
If they saw the inside,
Only hate would pursue.

A bastard, to think of love,
Engagement?
A murderer, to raise children,
Cheerful roses, covering such a blemish,
But a flower grows decrepit under a
Diseased carer.

Shame, I met this bastard,
In the glow of a bathroom light,
And the mirror,
Placed in front of me.

I met a bastard today,
And the bastard met me.

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Latest Comments

  • 19 years ago

    by StormyWeather

    i always thought that poems were deeper without rhyming
    i've spent a long time trying to show the emotions in a way that flows with a rhyming structure, as well as making people want to read the poem over again
    i've read and reread your poem 10 times. each time i notice something which makes me love it even more
    its hidden meanings, its more obvious points.

    it's great. excellent. i wish i'd written it.

    abbi :)

  • 19 years ago

    by Sean

    You are pretty much dead on, there are two ways to look at this poem...

    One from a deep level, as you saw it where i'm hating on myself and the two sides of myself are talking to me, one saying how he's loved (The fans) and the other, saying i am the bastard.

    The other way to look at is consider the murder part, and the mirror...maybe he saw this 'bastard' behind him in the mirror...about to be murdered himself.

    Any pointers in improvement on grammar and structure, Chris? I'd love to revise any of my works and improve upon them given the right advice (and am going to work on my birdy one now :P)

  • 19 years ago

    by Lil Luce

    wow thought id check out ur poems seems read loads of ur stuff on the forum and u certainly impressed! good twist at the end!
    xxxLoUxxx

  • 19 years ago

    by Sean

    career is a job path, carer is somebody who looks after something (In this case the flower)