Rose isnt the only red

2 Comments

Tags:
  • Death
    • ,
  • Loss
    • ,
  • Friendship
    • ,
  • Emotional
    • ,
  • Lost Love
    • ,
  • Sadness
    • ,
  • Angst

    Poem Commentary

    um...it hurts letting go. This is dedicated to a friend who shot himself, out of depression. Everyone said it's because he was tried of heart-break. I think it's because we we're all so stupid and ignored his aching heart....Blair i'm so sorry

    Rose isnt the only red

    Roses are no longer my brightest red,

    You just sat by and watched while I bleed.

    Saying “all this shit is just in my head”,

    To realize I knew the truth was what you truly dread.

     

    I loved you gingerly,

    You loved controlling me.

    I’ve fallen so deep, I just can’t leave.

    You’ll have me as long as I continue to breathe.

     

    I’ve finally swallowed all my tears,

    But your face is still…my greatest fear.

    The image of the monster you are is oh so clear.

     

    I wanted you to be my first, not last

    But I gave away to the cold steel blast.

    Now the pages of your paper heart

    Are painted in regret, the eternal art.

    Poem Comments

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    knight4696 commented on Rose isnt the only red

    01-30-2010

    Andrew ...Such a sad tale you have penned here. Depression is a serious disease and it kills. I have 4 poems dealing with this subject that I wrote as a plea of awareness. If you'd like to check them out - they are.... Maybe Tomorrow, On The Cliff's Edge, In My Desperate Hour, and In A Blink Of An Eye. You have amazing insight for someone so young. Keep up the good work! :)
    Reply to Comment

    BrokenAndrew

    02/16/2010

    Everywhere i turn, depression is soon to follow. I will definetly check out your works. Thank you!

    Teardrops commented on Rose isnt the only red

    01-27-2010

    My young friend you have some great talent dont stop writing '
    Reply to Comment

    BrokenAndrew

    02/16/2010

    thank you very much

    Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

    Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

    BrokenAndrew’s Poems (13)

    Title Comments Submitted
    Title Comments Submitted
    Love this 0 09/11/2011
    Burn in yearning 0 09/11/2011
    Hopelessly Falling, Lifelessly Calling 5 02/23/2010
    Somber Passions 0 02/16/2010
    Run 0 02/16/2010
    Rose isnt the only red 2 01/27/2010
    Let me be 2 11/23/2009
    Comatose 3 11/18/2009
    The Phantom of Reality 3 11/18/2009
    Run 2 11/18/2009
    King of Dreams 5 09/16/2009
    Forever Alone 3 09/14/2009
    Kiss Me Sweetly, Kill Me Gently 4 09/01/2009
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