Skip to main content

I PAINTED MY HEART By Artutee


I was told to write a one word story
I was told it should hold pain and joy in it
The fangs of hope and dissapointment should be embedded on it
That it should be a symbol of what's to come but still a reminder of our past
I was told to let it speak but never to have a voice
So I settled for 'love' as my choice
I chose to poke the heart
Of its feelings 
I drew it's image up on my wall
And it sure told a tale of happy endings
It for sure held mixed feelings up its ink
It marked beginnings
Sometimes it had faded lights at its brink
Flickers of a future and memories that persuaded a thought
I chose love for it made me write this without a whisper
No voice,no echo
Just a guilt between pen and paper


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

WHEN WORDS WOULDN'T SPEAK

When words have nothing to say But the heart is full What would speak for you? What would speak to you? When the quiet of a heart And the sound of a meldy Would resonate with your truth That words could never say When you have to quietly shout to the world Silenltly tell your story What would speak to you? What would talk to you? When the chrip of birds And the rumbling of a waterfall Would not speak to you When quiet would not do What would speak to you? What would talk for you? What would authentically tell the world your story Authentically Not hiding a single note of the rhythm of your heart What would tell the world your desire Your fears and terror What would speak to you? What would speak for you? An old melody That holds a memory A sound that holds a longing That knows the notes of your heart Would that speak for you? Would it speak to you?
Post a Comment
Read more

THE PARADOX

The fact that the reason to hold on is bigger than the reason to give up Does not trivialize your pain The fact that you neither shed a tear nor made a sound Does not mean you never cried The fact that you smiled all through the ceremony does not mean you were happy The fact that you are alive and happy Does not mean you aren't dead A strange ghost animating your body Not your dream self The fact you woke up with a plan Does not mean you aren't drifting through life The fact that you love a song Does not mean it makes you happy The fact that you woke when the alternative seemed lucrative Tells that you have outsmarted the paradox once more
7 comments
Read more

DARK

He sits alone in a silent corner of a dark room Trying to make sense of everything Everything is senseless at that moment Life seems to be worth everything Yet everything is worthless in his eyes He wonders why God had to make life in the first place and hopes it is not blasphemy No one wants to step on the toe of God more so those who hope heaven will offer a better home He is ashamed to admit that deep down he longs to be home Home is not this dark room filled with self doubt, anxiety and sorrow Home is where in the least he feels nothing Everyday he tells people to keep hoping but he  has lost all hope The only hope he has is that he will one day hope again Not hope to be rich or famous But to be happy for just a moment He hopes to slip over on his happiest day That is his dream He calculates how best to make his wish come But such days are to pracious to waste on fatal thinking He looks up to God Hoping not to offend Him and he prays for hope He prays that someone would listen ...
Post a Comment
Read more