w h y (poem) by Colin Kirkpatrick on AuthorsDen

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w h y by Colin Kirkpatrick Sunday, July 27, 2003 Share Print Save Become a Fan

I know this place. Cold grey walls and a cement floor. Dim light on a wilted rose. Next to a door slowly closing. Trapped within a mist of sorrow, the scent of broken dreams. A single chair on which I sit. Eyes closed, hands clasped. Tasting salt from my tears. Asking only why. I've never been here, yet I know. Photographs deceive my eyes telling a story that never was. Blown quietly to the past, denying the time, denying the place. Pithy poems in golden pen my only desire to believe. Heavy meaning once rich, now hollow. Only ink. Only paper. Silence fills my ears where once came music from my heart. Now I listen only to the wind. She is cold and hard, but tempts me not with hope. I know this place. Cold grey walls and a cement floor. I've lost my way and found my fate. Faded heart and a single chair. I long to find my dreamless sleep. Asking only why.

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Reviewed by Cles Wilson	8/15/2005

Another great poem by you. Very deep in words that express so much emotion.




Reviewed by Tami Ryan	1/23/2005

"Heavy meaning once rich, now hollow. Only ink. Only paper." This line says so much. I think, as writers, most of us have been in this space at one time or another - and, sometimes, for far too long. Expressive work here... keep writing. Tami




Reviewed by Angels Near	8/5/2003

The very same chair you express in your so eloquent poem is the very same chair a less than fortunate mother bought for her little girl long ago. This is truly a beautiful portrayal Colin... And, again I shall pray for God to remove the coldness the pain far from your heart and soul.




Reviewed by Elizabeth Taylor (Reader)	7/28/2003

Well, first, welcome to the den. This is a fine work. Bravo.




Reviewed by Linda Hill	7/27/2003

Dim light on a wilted rose Next to a door slowly closing I can hear the sound of the door closing , and a trapped feeling entering your grey world. This touched me deeply. I suffer depression and sometimes the grey walls and cement floor is mine. Awesome write... it speaks volumes!!!! ~~Linda~~




Reviewed by Erica Ivory	7/27/2003

Blown quietly to the past, denying the time, denying the place. Pithy poems in golden pen my only desire to believe. Heavy meaning once rich, now hollow. Only ink. Only paper Loved this part.. Excellent




Reviewed by Jenni Kalicharan	7/27/2003

Deep and profound write.. loved this line--> "Heavy meaning once rich, now hollow. Only ink. Only paper." Jenni