I dug and I died – POEM

I dug and I died

Yesterday I dug my grave just for the day of today.

I dug it deep and I dug it round just big enough to fit my emotions.

Once a dug deep enough I jumped right in to wait for the morning sun.

 

The sun came round and I turned bright red with sadness of emotion.

I was not dead, I was only red, and tomorrow had already come.

 

SAW 4/23/14

 

Please do not steal,copy, take, use, or rewrite my poems. They are mine. Yes mine. Thanks.

 

Links in regards to poetry (I admit I did not read them):

http://en.blog.wordpress.com/2014/04/23/building-poetry-communities/

http://theopenmouse.wordpress.com/

http://poetdelphia.wordpress.com/

http://ricochetmag.wordpress.com/ezine/

http://ricochetmag.wordpress.com/2014/04/14/the-best-soundtracks-for-writing/

http://goodmorningbedtimestory.org/

http://goodmorningbedtimestory.org/about/

http://ceasecows.com/

 

Poem: So Beautiful

So beautiful to the touch. But I shouldn’t, I am in remorse from my own soul dying at the hands of another. So beautiful to the touch. But wait. But stop. But wait. But stop. I whirl my body around with questions. I whirl I twirl I run. But my mind won’t stop its route. Don’t you dare I tell my own hands as they fumble and they fall. Don’t you dare I tell my heart, as it fumbles and it falls. Don’t you dare, I tell my soul that no longer exists. Do as you wish I tell my mind, because it is all that is left.

 

SAW 04/08-09/2014 My Poem.

This is my poem. Please don’t steal, take, or use my work.

 

Poem: Fifty Knives

I had fifty knives waiting in my room. Fifty knives to kill myself. Fifty knives fifty wives fifty lies fifty sny remarks.

I chant I chant fifty fifty fifty knives.

It is silent.

I lay on a bed of fifty knives.

Fifty Knives Fifty Knives I die alone on Fifty-Knives.

SAW 04/08-09/2014

Entering into the Fifty Word Challenge: http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/04/07/writing-challenge-fifty/

This is my poem. Please don’t steal, take, copy, rob, or use it.