"Phoenix"

This is the fourth poem I had ever written and decided to post it.... It's about my feelings for the girl who got me into writing.

It feels horrible when the person you want to make happy is already so but here's the catch your not the one who caused that, your not the one her eyes are piercing holes through out of tremendous amounts of love and gratitude.

No your the rough punk with the bad attitude and though sure you may have changed your still short a few cents for her to care about some chump change.

The visual of them it self is always one that makes you lose hope in humanity, oh the agony as I continue to watch her I am slowly but ever surely being consumed into insanity.

Always every day expecting something new or better to happen stuck believing in this thought as if it were the very truth but to be true in all truth it's but a ruse.

Just a convincing afterthought to make myself think along the lines "Oh well there is always tomorrow." tomorrow? oh what harrowing terror for you to think this line all the damn time.

Just trying my best to not ever let my own self fall to sorrow as I can't help but think of you smiling with glee.... and me staring in envy.

When you look in the mirror we see only little ol' me.... alone again, eyes red and hair a utter mess trying to think this is for the best for you, for me it feels like I'm already a dead man walking as I practically died as soon as the words you told me made me try to hide.

Biding my time while full of thoughtless thoughts on holding hope because I had hoped you would come to my side but it was just a pipe dream with one too many leaks.

Just a dream to never come true just a story about me the rough and tough background character aimlessly following you with great precision.

Only to be lost and make it into the local obituaries as I feel sluggish the more and more I trudge through the trenches.

However "All's fair in love and war."

While I involuntarily accept it to be, I did indeed lose that battle and died in the war but I will return mark my words for I'm a sore loser.

I will make that hollow husk I call a body move and this sentence is the glove that will be thrown to prove my passionate fire has not died.

For I am like a phoenix and you are my light so long as you are there I will never truly die... I'm immortal no sort of beating will turn my ashes to dust it just does not work that way I'm afraid.

You're all that I want, you're all that I will ever need you are every thing I could desire for you have turned my ashes to a cinder, my cinders to a ember, my ember to a flame and I will burn eternally in your name.

I'm the phoenix hear me cry!

... I'm the phoenix here I will lye.

.... I'm the phoenix here I will stay and continue to proclaim my ever lasting fire for the remainder of my days.

 

Author's Note

So what did you think?

Reviews

[Shasha]

The poem is really nice. The benefit of that girl was you started writing. You write really well and also wrote very well. Sometimes some people make their memories so hard that they cannot be erased so quickly. It's nice that you used that pain in writing.

[Sir_Anonymous]

Thank you for reading and sadly this is not the last poem about this girl... But yeah she brought the best out of me

Sincerely,Sir_Anonymous

[Shasha]

Yes, that's why people say "whatever happens, happens for good."