There is a place not far from here, Just beyond my imagination. A place I run to so far away, this place I stay. Hidden in the deepest corners of my mind, Is this place, in this small almost empty space. The oceans of my place are the darkest of blue. The sky is dark red always on fire, burning with lost desire. Emotionally drained, completely consumed by apathy. My eyes lifeless, from a lifetime of sorrow. My hands weak and hang at my sides. I sit upon the sands of silver and gold. There are flowers in the sand All different colors, blues, purples, pinks, yellows, oranges, However some flowers have died, I look out at the darkness of the ocean Everything colorful and bright, the colors of all my emotions. Yet I am painted in black and white. I dig my toes into the sand I feel no warmth, I feel nothing anymore. I long to cry, long for a tear to fall, but alas none come at all
For an 'empty space' it seems a marvellously created place. Full of the gold of dreams and those moments when we're not sure if we've really entered any real existence here. Very reflective! But I'd leave out any explanations; leave that to your reader. It allows us to know you better when we're forced to interpret you experience.
Y'know, poetry seems almost like therapy to me sometimes! (is there a difference?) I found it very eloquent, and something to be proud of. It's like a 'snapshot' of our lives, which we leave for the world to disect, but really, it's only YOU that has the right to disect your own life...( I see that you still notice the colours, even though some of them have died...I see hope!) S
