My Tragedy
by Bourge
Sunday, July 17, 2005
Not rated by the Author.
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This is my barbed wire tragedy,
these concrete walls were built for me.
Alone and dark,
my cast-iron heart
has never felt so free.
This is the graveyard of my eyes,
things fall apart, although we try.
This place is dead
inside my head,
but somehow I can't cry.
This is my epitaph come true ,
I hid, and stayed away from you.
I built myself
as someone else,
and I just wish you knew.
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| Reviewed by M Flack |
9/5/2005 |
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Wow is one word to describe this poem. Very moody and Gothic in nature...
Perhaps even a little cryptic in its' message... |
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| Reviewed by Karla Dorman, The StormSpinner |
7/18/2005 |
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Haunting imagery, chilling verse--excellently conveyed! Well done!
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla. :( |
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| Reviewed by Brian Pellerino |
7/18/2005 |
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Charli,
You float untethered in this forlornity. Your detached regret is heartwrenching. Very emotive and understated.
Peace,
B |
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| Reviewed by Sue Hess |
7/18/2005 |
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| i can relate to this very well, excellent poem |
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| Reviewed by jude forese |
7/17/2005 |
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| the real tragedy is when we keep our love to ourselves ... |
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| Reviewed by Retta (Reindeer) Mckenzie |
7/17/2005 |
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So very deep and dark, this touches the soul, excellent poem.
Reindeer |
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