drumass04
11-16-2005, 12:28 PM
This is the first poem I've ever liked once I've written it and read it again. I think it still needs a little work, but in my opinion it has the makings of a poem to treasure.
For my father.
Tears flowed as if from the clouds,
My heart strings were plucked by the mighty one.
A tune more beautiful than a freshly picked rose,
Delusions of a perfect world, memories of times gone by,
All darted through my mind,
Cracking the discomfort, that had formed inside of me.
As he’d left, I’d wept as if the world,
Was coming to an end, it wasn’t worth living in.
Nothing left except frayed fragile nerves,
And displaced hearts.
Known as a man of education and religion,
He’d left his eminence in a world where he cannot be.
The curtains closed around his body,
The end of an era, the beginning of a new chapter.
I was left with only my heart and mind,
Everything I tried to clear my head failed, pictures continued to appear,
As if from nowhere, images of a man and a train,
Flashed before me, nothing could rid them from my heart.
Memories became important from that day,
Everything I faced I saw in a different light.
Treasuring the entirety of all that I did,
Appreciating the life and freedom I’d been given.
Precious memories,
Of a simplistic, idyllic world,
Left behind,
For evermore.
Tim Peacock
16/11/05
Any suggestions welcome. Please be truthfull, if you don't like it say so, and tell me why.
Crit for Crit.
For my father.
Tears flowed as if from the clouds,
My heart strings were plucked by the mighty one.
A tune more beautiful than a freshly picked rose,
Delusions of a perfect world, memories of times gone by,
All darted through my mind,
Cracking the discomfort, that had formed inside of me.
As he’d left, I’d wept as if the world,
Was coming to an end, it wasn’t worth living in.
Nothing left except frayed fragile nerves,
And displaced hearts.
Known as a man of education and religion,
He’d left his eminence in a world where he cannot be.
The curtains closed around his body,
The end of an era, the beginning of a new chapter.
I was left with only my heart and mind,
Everything I tried to clear my head failed, pictures continued to appear,
As if from nowhere, images of a man and a train,
Flashed before me, nothing could rid them from my heart.
Memories became important from that day,
Everything I faced I saw in a different light.
Treasuring the entirety of all that I did,
Appreciating the life and freedom I’d been given.
Precious memories,
Of a simplistic, idyllic world,
Left behind,
For evermore.
Tim Peacock
16/11/05
Any suggestions welcome. Please be truthfull, if you don't like it say so, and tell me why.
Crit for Crit.