Early Tears
 

A child without a mother
Is like a rose planted into air,
Only feeding on its emptiness and despair.
And the early tears from Heaven
Are the only way out of the loneliness and sorrow
As the gloomy days on the horizon
Allow them to drift into a super natural world
Of pretend happiness and fake promises.
Then they grow their roots into the soft
Ground below them until the next group
Of dark clouds find them and take them
Back to their forever lasting dreams.
Children are indeed very much like roses.
Tender and needy with the want
For more early tears from Heaven
To take them away.


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One of my earlier poems.

Why can't anyone post something here that isn't of the 'attention seeking wannabe goth' genre?

Teh fux?

I'm just pissed off with all these people that seek spiritual satisfaction by posting their "moving" pieces involving "meaningful" words like 'despair, dark,' and 'cold.'

Get over it or get drunk, people. Sheesh.

I was 13 when I wrote this, and didn't even know what a goth was.

And I have yet to see anything written by you, so I'd like to see some of your work, if you have any.

TEh OWNED

It's someone dragged a comedian out of the 1950's and made him stupid just in time for 2003.

TEH OWNED!
Ba dum dum ching

That is mean to say to Jessifer GravitonSurge.Be nice