The pain of a silver streak The mercy in a salty tear The future that we seek Is slowly drawing near The angered soul of evil The dark tales of fear The warm coolness comforts me As the closing day grows near The wind against my face The water slapping the ground The dirt I do taste Taken off the ground Suddenly I loose my feet I am falling straight down Screaming out in horror, Is anyone around? Save me from my death bed Please have mercy, please A door shuts, A window slams Death is near
Reason for writing:
The way I write poems is I sit down, with a pen and my poetry book, and just write whatever comes to my mind. Usually it involves how I feel at that particular time, because that is what is in my mind. It might sound like I was depressed when I wrote this, and maybe I was, but I don't remember because I got it out of the front on my OLD poetry book, filled and no longer in use. This poem is dated 3/15/96. I must of had some reason for writing it the way it is written, but the unique thing about poetry, is that one doesn't have to understand it to be touched by it. Because I write the way I do, most of my poems are difficult to understand. I remember what most of them mean, but others may not have a clue. This allows them to mean something different to everyone that reads them, and that way they bring a little understanding into the lives of whoever reads them.
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