Life

[jmflash]

Do you see that man?
He is completely alone.
Some much time has passed
While his chance has been blown.
He just sits and he reads
Out there in the shivering cold.
I guess that this means
That there really is hope.

Have you ever seen
How a flower bends toward the light?
Can you imagine how
Something so badly wants life?
Twenty years from now
I will still remember that night.
Pitch dark held the basement
I alone held a knife.

...I'm so happy...

[lizzytysh]

JM ~

There's much about this poem that I like. Your insight, and the truth of the hope in it. I won't go into all the details [lack of time], but I'm very curious about the knife. Was it real or a metaphor?

~ Lizzytysh

[Truly Unknown]

To thirst, to crave, to want, to need
So badly hurting you want to bleed
The knife is sharp, the pain acute
the soul is wounded, there's no refute
A life ensconced in fairy tales
the knife, each year, further impales
It twists and turns but you won't die
it's all about the great big lie
There's something larger than life itself
You cannot find it on the shelf
It's buried far down deep within
shielding itself from the likes of men
who have burned, maimed and spit upon
it's tender flesh, a captured pawn
Find it, seek it and restore
to that place, the time before
It is there you'll find your heart shall be
totally new, unscathed and always free


I like your words jmflash, just thought I'd respond with a little poetic license. Thanks for sharing.

[jmflash]

The knife was real. I find that it is hard to be truly honest with yourself unless you have a knife held to your wrist. Maybe that is a bit morbid, but Ecclesiastes says, "Sorrow is better than laughter. Though it may sadden the face, it sharpens your understanding." "It is foolish to be happy, a wise person thinks about death."

[Truly Unknown]

today i can relate, although mine is imaginary, it still wounds probably worse because you still are living.