The place for writers: Upload your writing in minutes, receive peer feedback from other writers, poets, authors, then get your work published out there in the real world. Learn how other writers are doing it.
He found her but she's lost again
her life's a wonder, a mystery in sin
Arms wide open, eye closed tight
fists clenched with fury for sight
"How dare she live!"-Her opposition screams
"How dare she love, how dare she dream!"
With every turn of season she'll fade
her heart, her song...her soul
Want to comment on this Poetry? Sign up to Edit Red and you will be able to comment on Poetry and get access to: Upload your own stories and poems, get readers and their feedback, promote your work...
This is sad, but I sense a sort of heroism in it; a defiance for the crushing weight of reality.
Incidentally, "reality" is a philosophy as foolish as any philosophy and can be laughed away just like any of them.
Am I right to think that this is a poem about loneliness? A poem about feeling impotent? A poem about recognizing the crime rampant around us and aching for the solution of love?
I like this piece. It expresses a lot in only a few words.
