Dewy

by Heather Dunagan   Jan 16, 2006


Have you ever thought you found a man,
Who would never lie,
Have you ever thought he was to good,
It made you cry?

I lay around thinking,
What it would be like if you knew,
I think about,
If I should tell you,
What would it change?

If I had the words,
What do I say?
How do I change it alll
Help me find a way!

Sometimes I wish,
That I could fly high,
I wish I could get you outa my mind,
It makes me cry!

When I think about you
I remember that touch,
Honestly
It meant so much!!

This is hurting
Its causesing so much pain,
Somedays
My tears are so strong
it reminds me of rain!!

So if you ever
Want to make this end
I want you to know
My heart will never mend!!

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Latest Comments

  • 18 years ago

    by Tom Swart

    Nice, I think I could sense your words and their meaning. Keep up the prose and remember to be one with your poem. If it is real you’ll be able to feel it breath and its heart to beat. A poem is a fragment of time, a sliver of emotion trapped in our hearts and set free upon the page. Where it can finally sore and fly with other poems or cry and weep with other broken hearts. Poetry is nothing more than emotion set in motion. Poetry is seldom more than the small fossil that waits within the stone begging for someone to chip it free, and then to wonder how it came to be.

    Keep up your good works. May your poems be a great frame for your emotion’s. May there be peace and love in your life. And may the mark you make upon those hearts around you be filled with joyous fragments of your own heart.

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