agonia
english

v3
 

Agonia.Net | Policy | Advertising Contact | Participate
poezii poezii poezii poezii poezii
poezii
armana Poezii, Poezie deutsch Poezii, Poezie english Poezii, Poezie espanol Poezii, Poezie francais Poezii, Poezie italiano Poezii, Poezie japanese Poezii, Poezie portugues Poezii, Poezie romana Poezii, Poezie russkaia Poezii, Poezie

Poetry Personals Prose Screenplay Essay Press Article Communities Contest Special Literary Technique

Poezii Românesti - Romanian Poetry

poezii


 

Texts by the same author




Translations of this text
0

 Members comments


print e-mail
Views: 1490 .



One of Us Is Crying
personals [ ]
poetry journal

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
by [cristina-monica ]

2013-01-24  |     | 



I feel so guilty, my dear friend.
Like you, I am an honest person,
I will tell the plain truth this time,
begging you on my trope knees to forgive!
I did what all my brothers did.

Forgive my wild imagery, my baroque chain of metaphors,
my desert without flowers and all my singing out of tune!
Look what I did, open your eyes above your grass roots world.
I made you waste your pristine love,
your timeless memories, your treasured moments.
I drowned your life in despair. I was so lame my friend,
unable to shine brighter, to gather readers for your words
to understand your real feelings.

I’m a heartbreaker, I’m ashamed.
No one looked closer in my eyes
to see how many sleepless nights, headaches or smoking abuses
I made you go through,
only because you trusted me, believing I’ll be good for others.
And the few who read me condemned you
since I wasn't beautiful or attractive for them.

Hell over me! You thought about paradise islands,
your solitude, Robinson Crusoe’s Bible,
white fairies hiding inside cherry trees...
I am the one to blame. I was too greedy to express it all.
Your feelings were forget-me-nots,
I was a voracious weed killing those flowers one by one,
a poisoned mistletoe climbing your tree of wonders.

Do you remember when you ceased bringing life
to my brothers, the other poems?
Weren’t you happier those days?
I don’t call you mom, it is too late for that and I am guilty
for all your poetry dreams or harsh realities, my woman-poet.
I drained your Milky Way full of newborn stars.
I made you feel weak and despised.

Please take it easy, open your eyes,
forgive me.
Leave me.

.  |













 
poezii poezii poezii poezii poezii poezii
poezii
poezii Home of Literature, Poetry and Culture. Write and enjoy articles, essays, prose, classic poetry and contests. poezii
poezii
poezii  Search  Agonia.Net  

Reproduction of any materials without our permission is strictly prohibited.
Copyright 1999-2003. Agonia.Net

E-mail | Privacy and publication policy

Top Site-uri Cultura - Join the Cultural Topsites!