Imgine Me and You

 

The sun goes down

behind the London cityscape

a swirl of coulours,

red and orange, purple and pink,

above the buildings.

It’s as if he’s on

the top of the world,

but he doesn’t feel so.

He’s sinking, falling,

and he’s going to throw up.

Wasn’t he enough?

They were in love.

He loved her

and she loved him.

Wasn’t that enough?

No.

He could never be enough.

Author's Note

Any criticism would be graciously appreciated, as per.

Reviews

[La Belle Musical]

Well, I liked the sentiment behind this one, but I must admit I rather dilike the end result. It just just flow very well in my mind - the rhythme is off; you're imagery is rather dull and average and you're just not... inspiring me, shall we say.

"He's sinking, falling,

and he's going to throw up."

"Throw up" is just a little too harsh for the overal dreamy aspect of your poem.

It was a nice try. Keep at it!