My poem that has nothing to do with HP

I was told to post it here for comments and what not




This Dream
By Rikki Simpson 3/3/06

Once in a dream
Before anything mattered
A love was torn
And a life was tattered
A child walked alone
Her heart had shattered
Yet she walked on
Beaten and battered
“I want to get out!
Please let me leave!”
She heard herself shout
As she fell to her knees
“I’ve got to get home!
Please, please, please!
I want this pain
In my life to ease
This place is a hell!
Why am I here?
I feel as I walk
The exit gets near
Why can’t I get closer?
Why can’t I go back?
I would get my stuff
I am ready to pack
I want to go home
Where people loved me
But this time will be different
People will see
They would understand my problems
Why I’m upset
By being here
I have paid my debt
To all whom I’ve hurt
To all whom I’ve hated
I will live the life
That I have created
For me and myself
Yes only I
My life I will live
And my death I will die
I will go on
Until I get weak
And find myself lying
On this cold, rock-hard street
Writhing in pain
As I am tortured
My life will drain
As I wish to be nurtured
I want the blood to stop
The thick crimson flow
Please let me leave
Please let me go
I will patch up the wounds
That I have made
In the hollow life
Which I should have stayed
I want to live
No longer die
I want to no longer
To live a lie
To you it’s pathetic
But it’s all I will give
I am going home
I have my own life to live!”
With this she woke up
She was lying down
In a hospital bed
And a hospital gown
“I had to take the pills
What did I do?
That proves my skills
It ended up true
What everyone said
That’s what I mean
I have to turn my life around
It’s no longer a dream.”
She thought as she lay there
Staring into space
Until she saw a hand
Flash in front of her face
She looked around
To see her family
But best of all
Her twin sister Randi
“I love you!” she said
As she hugged her twin
“I have learned my lesson
And will never do it again!”



TA DA

hello there!..

I like your poem... it's very cool, I liked it a lot!...

personally I don't have the pacience to write poems, but I like reading them...

stay cool

I love it!

Nice poem it's long but good.

I have a poem to write now.


Words flown through one's ear,
But eyes that can not see.
Be as they are now what they desire.
In scavenged dirt, a new blood flows.
In earthly stillness, one eye will remain open.

Yeah its short but thought I could share it. I think poetry rocks. It helps to express yurself. :albino:

Jesse

Wow Jesse, thats beautiful! AND TOMS'GIRL WOW! :O Its so beautiful too..I wanan make a poem >>

awww I love both of them..... Im gonna submitt one as soon as I figure out which one I should *runs to journal to pick one*

I really like Daffodils by william wordsworth. And this marathi poem that me granddad's friend wrote...i'll work on the translation for you!

Yay, translations! In that case, i've got one.. It's called 'ja visst gör det ont' by karin boye. It's swedish, but I translated it as good as I could.

Indeed it hurts when knobs cut open
why else would the spring linger?
why would all our fierce cravings
be tied in the frozen bitterpale?
the cover was the knob all winter,
What is it that's new, that festers and nags?
Indeed it hurts when knobs cut open
What grows
And what shuts

This is the translation - It's like a song so don't be bothered if there are repetitions...it's very mad by the way... :afro:

The Aitu Song.

Just under Tibet, just above the Himalayas.

Just under Tibet, just above the Himalayas
Lies the strange land of the Aitus.

Aitus are very small.
Aitus are very fair.

Aitus are very small.
Aitus are very fair.
They have no elbows or knees, their arms and legs are as straight as sticks!

Triangular heads...
Square torsos...

They have triangular heads...
Square torsos.
Under their chests, there is no stomach!

To be able to survive, they hear well.
They have spicy ears (keen sense of hearing - like dogs for e.g.)

When girls are born,
They stick mirrors on their foreheads.

When girls are born,
They stick mirrors on their foreheads.
These mirrors have a lot of use.
The girls see their reflections.

And if the girls fight,
They put their hands over their mirrors!

In the land of the Aitus,
There are three rivers, three rivers, three rivers.

Shaani, Maani and Din

In Shaani, they have baths.
From Maani, they drink water.
And in Din, they sing in boats.

If their tune goes slightly wrong,
Their boat capsizes!


Well. That's all I know of it...it isn't written down - it's passed down (at least in my family it is - i don't know if my dad has a copy of it)

It is very different in Marathi - it rhymes, flows, makes sense and makes children laugh.

It has no particular lesson but it is a fun poem and I love it.

i like it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

i like them all actually!!!!

I wish i could write poems like that.

all these poems are so good - i really wish that i could write, but reading is more my forte (is that the word?) lol