A Poem by Thomas B. Buckman

To Olivia


Set yourself in my shoes
sing to yourself,
my version of the blues
do you ever wonder
why I gave you no clues?

I dont want you to see
all my deepest fears
I dont want you to know 
what these ears hear
what these eyes see

I think of the hatred,
the suffering,
the pure evil of this world...
and all you can think of,
is what shirt you want to wear
and if you have someone's hand to hold

This is why you make me sick
This is why we don't get along
when here, I was all you had
but now your'e long gone.

I introduced you to those I know
I held your hand during the dark hour
and yes, I did you wrong
but when your evil was thrust upon me
All I could do was smile.

Your rotted soul sings with fear
your true image tattered and torn
and all i did was live my life
soaked in your negativity.

You made me mean
You made me angry
Just think,
what if i had really created tragedy.

I could make your life a living hell,
just like you did mine.
I can turn your life upside down..
And take you for a spin, but that is out of line...

Instead, Ill sit here..
And simply grin.

You think I wanted you
You think I held you high
I did, as a friend... 
I wasn't like the others,
Your'e just another girl.

All I heard was your negative,
All I heard was your hatred,
All I heard was your lies..
Covered in flies..
of your bullshit past.

So you think I have no soul?
So you think I'll rot in hell?
Please, just tell me how.

© 2009 Thomas B. Buckman

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This leaves me wordless..
In a brilliant, wonderful way..
Excellente', Thomas!!!

Posted 8 Years Ago

A powerful write, Thomas, that goes through the contradictory feelings we usually experience with someone that we let into the private self that we are. Usually a strong mix of love and hate/anger, as you well expressed here.

(I do think you might have a typo on the very last line.)

Posted 8 Years Ago

I really like it. =]

Posted 8 Years Ago

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3 Reviews
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Added on December 9, 2009
Last Updated on December 9, 2009


Thomas B. Buckman
Thomas B. Buckman

Osage Beach, MO

My name is Thomas Buckman. I was a twenty year old unemployed poet... Now I'm a 21 year old member of the United States Army. "My role in society, or any artist's or poet's role, is to try and .. more..

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A Poem by Thomas B. Buckman