(no subject)
I'm entering a Poem to something at school. Please tell me Which one you like better, and criticism is welcomed. Also, tell me if you know what they are about. Also tell me about grmatical errors and what not, I'm REALLY sleepy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You're rotting inside
Once,
so many many seasons ago,
when I was the moist earth in which your roots intertwined,
I saw you to be much more than you were.
A sturdy oak I saw.
With soaring height you embraced the passing clouds.
Emerald leaves
occasionally falling
softly
softly
softly
landing delicately on me
leaving tiny impressions all about my existence.
I thought you were everything.
But time couldn’t conceal your deceit.
My moister lessened day by day
until my mind was grown and my soil dry and rigid.
The waters in which you relied upon dissipated,
for naïve rains no longer fell.
Without this water your leaves turned brown
and honest winds blew the decay away.
Now
I saw what you could no longer hide.
Holes, bearing it for all to see.
You were rotting inside.
These decaying holes were homes.
Poor creatures would move in,
impressioned that they were the sole occupants.
The rain began to fall again.
Emerald leaves returned to you,
concealing once more
your true ambitions.
These creatures tore the weeds from around you,
and swatted at the bugs on your leafs.
They drank your dewy deception
and did so much more for you than you deserved.
The passing clouds embraced you once more,
but soon it was realized that it was no embrace at all.
The pitying clouds had gathered for me.
They rained down hard, and I washed away…
In passing time, your trunk will fall.
I won’t be there to catch you.
And when you fall, I know you’ll break,
for deceit
is a heavy anchor.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Your Spirit is Here
a room
frozen in time
hid behind a shut door.
one lone box
caressing un-given gifts.
not so long ago
a time frame was put on life.
no denying new finds.
an advent calendar
still hung low for short arms.
days do pass without notice.
such a beautiful house
still full
but seemingly empty.
it’s Christmas.
we aren’t home
because you aren’t home.
four ornaments
for four blissful years.
you’ll still get one this year.
a failing existence.
you still exist.
your stalking is hung.
they gave you 3 weeks
you kept that and 2 days.
your spirit was strong.
Your spirit is here.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You're rotting inside
Once,
so many many seasons ago,
when I was the moist earth in which your roots intertwined,
I saw you to be much more than you were.
A sturdy oak I saw.
With soaring height you embraced the passing clouds.
Emerald leaves
occasionally falling
softly
softly
softly
landing delicately on me
leaving tiny impressions all about my existence.
I thought you were everything.
But time couldn’t conceal your deceit.
My moister lessened day by day
until my mind was grown and my soil dry and rigid.
The waters in which you relied upon dissipated,
for naïve rains no longer fell.
Without this water your leaves turned brown
and honest winds blew the decay away.
Now
I saw what you could no longer hide.
Holes, bearing it for all to see.
You were rotting inside.
These decaying holes were homes.
Poor creatures would move in,
impressioned that they were the sole occupants.
The rain began to fall again.
Emerald leaves returned to you,
concealing once more
your true ambitions.
These creatures tore the weeds from around you,
and swatted at the bugs on your leafs.
They drank your dewy deception
and did so much more for you than you deserved.
The passing clouds embraced you once more,
but soon it was realized that it was no embrace at all.
The pitying clouds had gathered for me.
They rained down hard, and I washed away…
In passing time, your trunk will fall.
I won’t be there to catch you.
And when you fall, I know you’ll break,
for deceit
is a heavy anchor.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Your Spirit is Here
a room
frozen in time
hid behind a shut door.
one lone box
caressing un-given gifts.
not so long ago
a time frame was put on life.
no denying new finds.
an advent calendar
still hung low for short arms.
days do pass without notice.
such a beautiful house
still full
but seemingly empty.
it’s Christmas.
we aren’t home
because you aren’t home.
four ornaments
for four blissful years.
you’ll still get one this year.
a failing existence.
you still exist.
your stalking is hung.
they gave you 3 weeks
you kept that and 2 days.
your spirit was strong.
Your spirit is here.