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Literature Text
Walking in darkness,
Hearing screams in the dead of night,
Waiting for something,
What they call "the light".
No one ever answers me,
My life has come and gone,
With one bullet to the head,
Some may say thats wrong.
For me it was an escape,
To relieve my life from this pain,
seemingly it never goes away,
Even after I am dead it is still here,
Somehow those tears that roll down my face live in me too.
I thought those demons that chased me in life would go away,
I thought this numbness inside would relieve me would go away.
I thought people would forget about me,
But their crying over me and before me.
I wear a plain simple dress,
A rosie color,
maybe pink,
While others mourn in black and they think.
Why would she do this,
She had so much going for her,
A journalist maybe a phototagrapher.
The preacher begins his rant on how much I ment to him,
The funny thing is I NEVER KNEW HIM....
But I turn around and what do I see,
Is that boy who I thought never liked me.
He sits in the very back pew,
With eyes closed he is trying to hold back the tears that will eventually break free.
I glide over and got real close,
somehow I hear his thoughts,
Stuff I could've never known.
I sat down beside him and put my head on his shoulder,
He sat there crying until the visual was over.
He could not bear to go see my face,
He did not want to remeber me that way.
So he left and came back the next day,
For my burial service was on its way.
Many attended,
said their condolences and good-byes,
One though refused to leave,
He sat down and continually cried.
The boy came back today I could not believe it,
He stay until his mother called and needed him.
He once came back on a cold winters day,
After my body had long been buried and frozen.
He brought me flowers and sat at my grave,
He brought me nachoes and a sprite,
and talked away.
He said how much he missed me and never wanted me to go,
So the only proper thing was to meet me half way.
I could not relay what he was saying until he pulled out a gun,
He placed the roses at my grave,
and then it was done.
I finally saw the light and I walked near it,
But only to find him walking next to me going for it.
He looked into my eyes and said,
"I guess you did not leave me after all..."
And then we made it,
To the end of our pain,
all that waited was the happiness.
Hearing screams in the dead of night,
Waiting for something,
What they call "the light".
No one ever answers me,
My life has come and gone,
With one bullet to the head,
Some may say thats wrong.
For me it was an escape,
To relieve my life from this pain,
seemingly it never goes away,
Even after I am dead it is still here,
Somehow those tears that roll down my face live in me too.
I thought those demons that chased me in life would go away,
I thought this numbness inside would relieve me would go away.
I thought people would forget about me,
But their crying over me and before me.
I wear a plain simple dress,
A rosie color,
maybe pink,
While others mourn in black and they think.
Why would she do this,
She had so much going for her,
A journalist maybe a phototagrapher.
The preacher begins his rant on how much I ment to him,
The funny thing is I NEVER KNEW HIM....
But I turn around and what do I see,
Is that boy who I thought never liked me.
He sits in the very back pew,
With eyes closed he is trying to hold back the tears that will eventually break free.
I glide over and got real close,
somehow I hear his thoughts,
Stuff I could've never known.
I sat down beside him and put my head on his shoulder,
He sat there crying until the visual was over.
He could not bear to go see my face,
He did not want to remeber me that way.
So he left and came back the next day,
For my burial service was on its way.
Many attended,
said their condolences and good-byes,
One though refused to leave,
He sat down and continually cried.
The boy came back today I could not believe it,
He stay until his mother called and needed him.
He once came back on a cold winters day,
After my body had long been buried and frozen.
He brought me flowers and sat at my grave,
He brought me nachoes and a sprite,
and talked away.
He said how much he missed me and never wanted me to go,
So the only proper thing was to meet me half way.
I could not relay what he was saying until he pulled out a gun,
He placed the roses at my grave,
and then it was done.
I finally saw the light and I walked near it,
But only to find him walking next to me going for it.
He looked into my eyes and said,
"I guess you did not leave me after all..."
And then we made it,
To the end of our pain,
all that waited was the happiness.
I wrote this poem after I had this dream last night....it is interesting what truly gives you ideas to write poems.
© 2010 - 2024 KMLEckstein22
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Jerry was a race car driver He drove so goddamn fast He never did win no checkered flags But he never did come in last Jerry was a race car driver He'd say "El Sob number one" With a Bocephus sticker on his 442 He'd light 'em up just for fun Ahhhh Ahhhh Captain Pierce was a fireman Richmond engine number three I'll be a wealthy man when I get a dime For all the things that man taught to me Now, Captain Pierce was a strong man Strong as any man alive It stuck in his craw That they made him retire at the age of sixty-five Ahhhh Ahhhh Go! Hee hee hee! Dog will hunt! Ahhhh Ahhhh Jerry was a race car driver Twenty-two years old One too many cold beers one night Wrapped himself around a telephone pole, go!