Endless

SoundSound Posts: 579
edited January 2005 in Poetry, Prose, Music & Art
You jump
but the clif has no end
you fall
and you fall
and the pain is there
you can't stop it
it grows
you try to reach it and pull it out
but it keeps change location
and you pray for the ground
death is a gift
but you will keep falling
It was a dream, not a nightmare. A beautiful dream I could never imagined in a thousand nods. I saw this girl next to me, she wasn't beautiful until she smiled. And I felt that smile come at me in heat waves following. Soaking through my body and out my finger tips in shafts of color. And I knew somewhere in the world, somewhere, that there was love for me.

Jim Carrol
Post edited by Unknown User on

Comments

  • 'death is a gift'



    i love that idea :)
  • grooveamaticgrooveamatic Posts: 1,374
    'death is a gift
    but you keep falling'

    who can't identify with that? very depressing but very human poem. thanks!
    .........................................................................
  • SoundSound Posts: 579
    i love death

    kill me if you can

    you'll be next
    It was a dream, not a nightmare. A beautiful dream I could never imagined in a thousand nods. I saw this girl next to me, she wasn't beautiful until she smiled. And I felt that smile come at me in heat waves following. Soaking through my body and out my finger tips in shafts of color. And I knew somewhere in the world, somewhere, that there was love for me.

    Jim Carrol
  • I'm not afraid of death
    Take me
    But not yet
    It doesnt hurt.... when I bleed
    but memories...they eat me
    I've seen it all before,...
    bring it on cause I'm no victim.
    -Ghost
  • SoundSound Posts: 579
    i missed my chance to die
    i'm not sad or happy
    i lost the timing
    death would be wasted now
    she doesn't deserve dieing
    It was a dream, not a nightmare. A beautiful dream I could never imagined in a thousand nods. I saw this girl next to me, she wasn't beautiful until she smiled. And I felt that smile come at me in heat waves following. Soaking through my body and out my finger tips in shafts of color. And I knew somewhere in the world, somewhere, that there was love for me.

    Jim Carrol
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