TheyA Poem by John Alexander McFadyenThey I don’t feel like writing poetry, there is no prose in my heart, no lyrics in my head. Only the emptiness, the gaping hole of loneliness that they have left me. In this space dwells defeat; a monster made of hate, born of hurt and deep, deep anger, who will rage against such tyranny. The cruelty they have shown cuts deep, leaves vicious scars. For theirs is the diet of deceit; They feed upon the immorality, the duplicity, guile and falseness of pretence. They offer love and utter empty promises and when tested flee to their chosen sanctuary. No honour and no faith, only hollow and superficial words Sung beguilingly to lure me to my doom. Mere hypnotic traps that spill from insincere lips and leave me clinging, helpless, abandoned upon the storm ravaged rocks of life. So beware, do not be lured by their affiance, do not commit your soul, for such half-women are they. 21st April 2010 © 2012 John Alexander McFadyenReviews
|
Stats
272 Views
12 Reviews Added on August 22, 2012 Last Updated on August 22, 2012 AuthorJohn Alexander McFadyenBrixworth, England, United KingdomAboutWell, have a long and complicated story and started it as an autobiography on Bebo but got writer's block/memory fogging. People liked it though and kept asking for the next chapter! fools.. more..Writing
|