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Triste son las palabras - tres -
By Spiritus_Frumenti
It has taken me so long to understand,
The meaning of these wounds on my hands
That stretch to the very edge of my fingertips
Where I now hold this pen
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Why has it forgotten me?
If I created nothing, if I created dreams
If I have done everything to be this empty?
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Is it possible to give birth to a non-existence
To an intangible being fabricated out of despair,
Crafting its misery to perfection over the years,
Until it has begun to form me,
Until I have become the emptiness
And
Its reflection...?
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Copyright © Juan Antonìo Thomas, 2004
Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited.
Ask the author first.
Copyright 2004 Spiritus_Frumenti
Published on Tuesday, September 14, 2004.
Filed under:
"Poetry"
Comments on "Triste son las palabras - tres -"
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On Friday, May 12, 2006, Mari
(425)
wrote:
your such a poet. its kinda funny really.
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On Thursday, September 23, 2004, urbanhumility
(1175) wrote:
inverted in all meaning.......the reverse of realization, the conception of degradation............you have written so well..........urban
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On Wednesday, September 15, 2004, Anth
(1133) wrote:
the last verse especially is magnificent in its thought and execution,the words delicately impacting as ever
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A former member wrote:
Enlightening.
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On Tuesday, September 14, 2004, Six-Out
(1435) wrote:
I agree with Josh...poet is all that can describe you.
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On Tuesday, September 14, 2004, Revolting Theatre
(31) wrote:
Well written, poet. -Josh
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On Tuesday, September 14, 2004, Solace
(1069) wrote:
Your crazy man, spinning words into worlds, for you anything is possible, with your pen you create beauty unparralelled...Fill yourself with beauty...It is both a projection and a reflection...
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