This week in my British Literature class, one of our assignments was to write a sonnet (14 lined poem with a single central theme). After combining a few poems I had previously written, I was fairly pleased with the outcome:
Longing carves ridges beneath my eyes
I allow emptiness to roll onto my neck,
Leaving a wet trail,
The shadows of when he was here.
I crave that familiar feeling,
As I embrace the tears running down my cheeks;
The closest things I can feel to him.
Loneliness is when your thoughts become louder than the music,
More alive that the crowd.
It is standing in an empty street,
Watching lights change: green, yellow, red.
It is being trapped in your own mind
Searching for the beat of a breath.
It is all I have felt, apart from my love.
No comments:
Post a Comment