Thought I write the poem I wrote last Friday here...
He lived with his torment
He sensed his dismay
He lived with his colours
He looked around
and saw the world with new eyes
Like he knew it wouldn't last
that his sanity would take hold
Bold strokes of colour
The night sky took the canvas
The town was asleep
as he escaped into his world
Down there he was a stranger
Out here he was alive
He could forget about his illness
as he gazed upon the stars
His life has passed with sadness
but the moment is still alive
2 comments:
I still love it. . .
Just a thought. . . are you satisfied with the fourth line?
What do you mean? Just tell me honestly... You should have done it in the first place!! You are aloud to give criticism you know))) Anything that can make a work better is good)))
I do think I know what you mean, but I am not going to change or not change anything before you tell me what you mean;) So come on, tell me)))
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