Paragraph 10, Poem = Letting Go Of The Past
October 25th 2008 19:46
This is a poem, I wrote on moving on.
Leaving all the painful memories behind.
I, only wish my mind would allow me to
do so. I dream of the day, it becomes my
reality. I haven't given up on hope, just yet.
I turned the hourglass
of time upright,
and watched each grain of life slip by.
Tears fell in unison,
with each grain that fell upon
the one before.
For it contained
a painful memory of youth,
that was revealed and then defused
onto the pile.
As the final grain had landed,
my eyes began to dry.
Because it was then I realized,
all of my tomorrows would be just that
a new day, not the past
keeping me forever looking back.
Leaving all the painful memories behind.
I, only wish my mind would allow me to
do so. I dream of the day, it becomes my
reality. I haven't given up on hope, just yet.
I turned the hourglass
and watched each grain of life slip by.
Tears fell in unison,
the one before.
For it contained
a painful memory of youth,
that was revealed and then defused
onto the pile.
As the final grain had landed,
my eyes began to dry.
Because it was then I realized,
all of my tomorrows would be just that
a new day, not the past
keeping me forever looking back.
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Comment by Lady Henrietta Muddling
Potter in a Harry
I love the idea behind this poem. And so much about the execution of the idea.
I could write a lot about it, but the best way I know of speaking to poets is to show them what I'd do with their poem. A lot of people don't like that approach. But it's the best approach I know. In my mind, rewriting it is no different from offering suggestions of how to improve it. Because the poet is free to accept or reject the rewrite just as they are to reject or accept a suggestion. In real life? If I had personal contact with the poet, I would only offer suggestions. Have a chat about the poem. But this is the virtual world. I don't have the time to type what I could say. If it was my poem, this is what I'd do with it.
I turned the hourglass of time upright
and watched each grain of life slip by
Like my tears, each grain began to fall
upon the one that fell before
Each grain contains
a painful memory of youth
revealed and then diffused
onto the pile
And when the final grain had disappeared
my eyes began to dry
My mind, emptied of yesterdays
If only my tomorrows could be like that
A bright clear day I can see through
to keep me from forever looking back.
Comment by Dianna G
I Wish This Was 42
Fictional Worlds
Absolutely beautiful. This blog looks very intriguing-I'm sure you'll be hearing a lot from me.
~Dianna