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    dots Submission Name: The Day is For Sleepingdots

    Author: TheStillSilence
    ASL Info:    20/F/Out in Outer Space
    Elite Ratio:    5.1 - 180/107/54
    Words: 211
    Class/Type: Poetry/Nostalgia
    Total Views: 733
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 1299


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    dotsThe Day is For Sleepingdots

    She polishes her ribbon, worn with time and care
    And moves on to a plaque, a memory of what was there
    She caresses the frame, closing her brown eyes
    Neglecting the journey, praising just the prize

    A soft dust hides her shoulders, from weight and wear and tear
    Time is but a number, that once mattered somewhere
    Her heart is trudging slowly, it too lost with age
    As she holds a letter, perfumed in love and rage

    'I love only the world', she mumbles to the air
    'I was born to mend its wounds, destined to sooth its fear'
    'You love only the world', repeats the empty space
    'You were born to change its ways, destined to save its grace'

    The light outside her window, is protecting her from day
    Casting overshadows, on birds that dare to stay
    The clock ticks by more slowly, the song racing to an end
    Still she won't let go, preferring to play pretend

    Her wrinkled hand lays dormant, his face hidden beneath
    All of time can't mend, the wounds that she bequeathed
    But day hasn't arrived yet, the truth is still asleep
    The ribbons, plaques and frames, at night her company keep

    Submitted on 2013-10-06 18:46:46     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      This has a lot going for it. Your rhymes/off-rhymes are generally good but "sleep" and "keep" seem forced. The work does something that is important in poetry, it conveys a feeling, a sense of the person.
    | Posted on 2013-10-08 00:00:00 | by my shadow | [ Reply to This ]
      She studies her ribbon, with time and with care
    She moves to a plaque... his memory there
    Caressing the frame, while closing her eyes
    Neglecting his journey, praising his prize .

    His dust hides her shoulders, from weight and wear
    Time is a number, that mattered somewhere
    Her heart pulses constant, counting the days
    She clutches a letter, perfume gone with the age.

    'I love only the world', she cautions the air
    'I mended it's wounds. I soothed its despair.'
    'You love only the world', repeats empty space
    "To change its lost ways, to save its lost grace'

    The light outside her window, gifting her days
    Casts over long shadows, on the birds daring stay.
    The clock ticks by slowly, the song metering an end
    Still she won't let go, still grieving her friend

    Her wrinkled hand dormant, his face hidden beneath
    Tme can't mend the wounds that she bequeathed
    Day hasn't arrived, the truth left to sleep
    The ribbons, and frames, her memory keep
    | Posted on 2013-10-07 00:00:00 | by solararia | [ Reply to This ]
      Although I might be able to admit her it's late at night I read them that doesn't give her the right to assassinate me for their possession. Who does she think she is the incarnation of truth aimed corporeally preternatural. I don't understand, why is she dreaming of his trophies, did she care, do wrong to him?? Was it her neglect for reality that wounded him?

    Bruce ?????
    | Posted on 2013-10-06 00:00:00 | by monad | [ Reply to This ]

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