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Přidejte seGhost and Mind
12. 10. 2005
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P1_P1_P1
This poem was written when I was sunk. I hope you know, what feel the man, when he is at the bottom. Please have understood and enjoy this little free verse poem ...
deep and deep
Am I up or am I still asleep?
I was stopped on the road
to the other world.
This experience made me cold.
Like a stranger in myself
here’s my ghost,
he needs help – he’s alone and lost.
You can see in my eyes,
I want to alive
and he can die.
Ghost takes control
when I go to sleep and try to still my mind
but he can’t his world find.
“Can we help us or we can not?
What you can’t that I can,
we can everything
what do you think?”
My offer has been accepted –
I help him find his world.
“I’m happy, what do you need?”
that’s all, that he told.
It’s O.K. I want nothing
but together we are strong,
I couldn’t be here alone.
Can we be friends life-along?
The ghost says nothing,
he only nods and smiles.
I feel, I’ll enjoy with him
a lot of tales.
He gaves me the present – it’s useful very,
in my dreams i can see all on the earth,
this my enemies find out scary.
I lived for a lot of days
plunged in my “dream”
I was satisfied when I was “in.”
I was very different and wise,
I saw many bad things and nothing nice.
I chose pay the highest price.
A good girl cames and my hand kept,
she saw: ”I love you, do not left!”
and I forever aslept.
White eternal light
that is all,
I’m in the heaven hall.
I’m longing and I’m sad,
ghost think about that and me,
he knows where I want to be.
He mades a wonder,
I’m grateful for this,
he took me back,
back to nice miss.
We lived us life in love,
I love her and she loves me.
When we die, ghost was ill,
Dont cry! That isn’t bad luck,
cause we are togheter still.
We are in the paradise on the grass,
there you can visit us.
slunickoslune
12. 10. 2005
Hi there, sorry, but if it was in proper English, it might have been quite good. But not with all the mistakes.
Yes, I know already, Irenka's told me :)
I've read it once more and I quite like it. * for the rhymes, not so usual when a foreigner writes a poem in English. And * because you didn't try to rhyme with the word luck.