Sunday, 13 March 2011
I haven't written a rhyming poem in a while. I once thought it was my forte, but that feels like an eternity ago. No, I'm not asking for sympathy or consideration. You'll be as critical as you want to be, and most of you won't anyway. Granted, it's true, your criticism, at least concerning my poetry, is basically pointless considering that I write from the heart, and subscribe to the idea that what's written from the heart is pure and therefore untainted or critiqable; but I digress.
We’re drifting further every day,
And try as I might to find another way
I know we’ll drift apart in the end-
C’est La Vie; break never bend;
Such are the mottos of my life,
Seen through the blade of a knife-
A fate you never wanted to embrace,
A future I’m destined to face,
But will you be there by my side
Or will you vacate, cower, and hide?
Am I destined to face the future alone,
Or can I count on you to be there when the blade meets the bone?
You may know who you are, but you may not; my guess, you won't even read this anyway, and you could. Sometimes I lie to you just like everyone else; we're drifting- I know you feel it too, but neither of us really wants to admit it, and could we save us if we wanted to? Are we worth saving? I know I'm not, but are we?