I mask the pain within my heart
youths follies hid within
regrets and soft memories
fill each waking hour
wrapped in my pain I wear
my sorry in my eyes
once sweet blue now empty
I walk the hallways of my past.
This is a poetry,prose,Haiku and writing site
Edna St. Vincent Millay
1916
My candle burns at both ends;
It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends-
It gives a lovely light!
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5 comments:
your poem perfectly tells a common tale
eyes are so very telling
tender poem
Thank you Tammie.
Melanie
Hallways make me think of narrow, darker spaces. I know the feeling!
i hear you!
This is so well written that is has me really thinking about youth and indiscretions.
You wrote a sad poem about a person filled with terrible sadness. I try to imagine what youths' follies could be so painful and bring such sorrow.
I cannot except for drug expermintation that went terribly, terribly, wrong. Like death or physical or mental disability to another or in case of the latter two, to self.
It has to be sad. Sadder than all but one that I know. That one shot a friend, not in anger. The friend is a paraplegic now confined to a wheel chair.
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