Crash

I felt maybe a lot of people could relate to this... 1:45AM - Start.

Whip,

lash,

burn,

crash.

Can't help my mind,

my eye's have gone blind.

I can't see the world anymore,

what's behind the door?

I wouldn't know, I don't risk leaving my place of solitude,

I'm never in the mood.

But another side of me told myself to strain to get away,

another piece told me to stay.

And I didn't know which way I was suppose to go,

but staying seemed to grow and grow.

I trapped myself in my own box,

clunked together with old rusty locks.

There old, but sturdy, representing my unforgotton past,

I'm wishing this would never last.

But here I am, looking into myself again,

there isn't an end.

Because the past isn't dead and gone,

whoever said that was wrong... Oh, so wrong.

Because each night my tears prove that time doesn't melt away the horrid past,

The pain isn't painless and fast.

It slowly whips you,

it leaves more then one lash,

It starts to burn,

and then you...

 

Crash.

Author's Note

1:53AM - Finish. This may be sloppy, I don't think right in the morning...

Reviews

[Eagle Cruagh]

Awwww ~ This is sad.

It is such a beautiful poem, but describing escape from the
past, then captured and the crash as the past seems
inescapable. It will go away you know. The past seems
to become a permanent installation, but it is not.

Today is very important and you can think about tomorrow ,
but the past is old stuff.

I think your poem about the past is incredible, you have
captured the essence of nostalgia.

For better tomorrows,

------ Eagle Cruagh

[Voice]

This is an amazing poem and I absolutely love how you formatted it and the way you ended it. You have a lot of talent and I really love this piece you don't hold back on emotion...

Voice

[Aludra]

You thought of this sometime around 1-2 AM?
It doesn't sound sloppy at all.

It's true. Sometimes you can't ''bury the past''.