Description: Dunno really.
I just sat myself down today and forced myself to write something.
Anyone let me know if it means something to them?
It started to flow in different directions and I'm not too sure if I managed to bring it back together.
The lullaby -------------------------------------------
Twice round I saved the lullaby
From 'tween the crush of you and I
Inside I laughed and thought it joke
Until I realised the song was broke
These words but rhyme each line to end
As though written in the latest trend
Of childish crude and badly posed
Questions then answers, well the case must be closed
But one question I ask and it shall still remain
Will the lullaby learn to fly again?
To delve into an innocent mind
With soothing words and a rhyme of kind
That melts away the thoughts and fears
Of life without, that dries our tears.
I took its hand and blew it breath
Kept it warm, away from death
Just for you, my dear
For it's whisper upon your ear
For its words to help you stay
Inside sanities realm throughout each day
But 'til it heals my sorrow stays
And I apologies for my lack of skills
These lyrics I speak within our room
Have not the voice to tame the moon
Nor keep the stars from lighting your eyes
While the world itself should be waving goodbye
While your mind should be restful
Within dreams you belong
As I try, for you, to recreate
The lullabies song
wonderful. Your rhyming and rhythm had a little bid of a hiccup near the end of the long stanza, and without reason I can see. There is much insightfulness in this poem. I think that knowing that you know nothing is an important concept, and this peice illustrates the need to be weak. I like that. It may not be on purpose, or even true, but that's what i saw.
I love it. I think it has a lot of meaning to it. I think you did an excellent job keeping everything together. I noticed you rhymed but to be quite honest I cannot not hear the rhyming at all when I read it. I am not saying it was bad or that you should change it because I really love the wording in this one I just wanted to point that out. Also there is one thing I really hate in life and that is the “word” till. I hate that with all of my being but I think here I will clench my teeth and take it because I think it flows very um… somewhat ok with the rest of the poem. ~ SonAsylum aka Aaron
I believe this means something, quite a lot actually. My mother gave me a book of her poetry she wrote when she was in high school; it was completely filled with her writing and poetry written by her closest friends, friends that she doesn’t know a thing about any longer. I read through it, most it was actually very impressive but some was wish-wash, which is of course was to be expected. But when you look back, you never would have know these things about my mother; how beautifully she could express herself, how much her friends respected her, how much her parents divorce and her adoption confused her. But isn’t that in a way what poetry is, reflection? Of course, it can be more but mostly it has dwindled down to romanticized reflection upon lessons learned, fleeting emotions, and self-misunderstandings. It also means something quite different to me; the want to write the perfect poem and the dark man-eating in-between that possibility and the possible author…something that could be interpreted as laziness, but isn’t really. What is it but lethargy? Who knows? Who knows?