Vain

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Vain.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

You sliced me up,

Emotionally,

So seldom now to be without hate,

None.

The fear rawer then pain.

Such words,

Struck in mere vain,

A rose,

So perfectly true.

Bright today and black tomarrow.

Such a simile in you’re eyes,

Not true, yet lied, spoken.

The pain comin from no where,

You’re eyes see fake,

Because I’m tearing myself up.

Not a rhyme,

Hearse.

You compete so freely,

Like sheer game.

You shade my voice away,

Whenever the better is around.

The perfected in any way to her.

But what would you’re blackened say?

Definley no kind.

Elle est si parfaite,

Je suis pour l'instant.

 

 

 

Reviews

[Enigma]

Oh! The last lines are written in French. I'm sorry, I don't know french at all so I can't understand those lines. But the rest of the poem was fantastic!! Really well written.
The reader can easily sense the anger and frustration you've felt from your words. All the feelings are very
well-expressed. I loved your poem...^_^
Well Done!!!

[alyssa]

WOW!! so descriptive.. keep writing!!

[Life Inside Death]

wtf@supervillain
meres turning on ppl with french..
it is the language of love after all though...

[Voltaire Mephisto (aka ..]

Nice semidark poem. I have no idea what the ending means, but writing in different languages is hot.

[melancholia skies]

Woah, doood.

You tackled, and attacked something completely different, and did pretty will,
But you might want to put visionary in the reader's eyes, you're putting the emotion there no doubt though.