Tainted Pictures.

My mind conjures these beautiful tortures. 

Things that'll never be, have never been,

Pictures of impossible places and people,

Of everything that I have never seen. 

 

My mind still whispers of love and chances, 

Of fair play and hope. And of you and I. 

But as we all know, some of us too well, 

Love and hope are very quick and so sly. 

 

So I lay here in this pitch black room, 

My mind filled with such beautiful pain, 

And every time I shut my tired eyes, 

These tainted pictures begin again.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

A strong poem. I like the visions create by the powerful poem.
"My mind still whispers of love and chances,
Of fair play and hope. And of you and I. "
Tainted pictures can hide the real story. Can rebirth when the pain or hurt come alive again. Thank you for the excellent poem.
Coyote

[asdfghjkl]

This flows beautifully. The structure is great, your wording is wonderful too. Good job.