Saturday, October 08, 2005

Hey, here's a poem of mine I like a lot:

Shadow's Blood
(Thanks to Elina for the title)

He sits there in the corner,
staring so coldly,
observing with eyes so wide,
and after they're done tearing down his spine,
he doesn't cry.
He's forgotten how.

You think he's awkward,
you laugh with everyone else,
and when they hit and kick him,
it's like he doesn't feel it.
He's forgotten how.

You'd give anything to know what goes on behind those frozen,
dead eyes,
hiding behind his fortress of dark bangs,
they whisper to your soul,
but he can't communicate with you.
He's forgotten how.

He sees the skull behind the face,
the stone beneath the chest,
but when he begs to be understood,
or smile,
he can't.
He's forgotten how.


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