My first poem writing attempts...

I have a friend who often writes poems, and usually shares them with me. She's encouraged me to try my hand at it, so here goes:

Alone
It is who I am.
It is how I am.
And it's where I've been.

In a park, on a bench
At home with the curtains pulled closed
I am alone.

A soul with a gap
An endless void/a long tunnel
Dim at first glance,
There seemes to be little hope.
But truely there is a light,
A shallow glimmer on the otherside

This tunnel is so long.

Llowell

Overhead the clouds drift by
Gently floating south,
Time to time abridging the sun's harsh glare.

I watch them with wide, hopeful eyes (at first).
I sometimes see them come together,
Creating a large, beautiful mass (two clouds, now one).

As the mass furthers its journey south
I notice an opening of blue towards the center.
Staring into the gap, I see it widen,
Seperating the once beautiful mass into two, again.
They darken with menace, the atmosphere around them changing mood
As lightning falls to the ground, with anger.

"Why?" I wonder.
"Why do they join, to only seperate again?"

I still watch the clouds, sometimes
But no longer are my eyes wide and hopeful.

Through my one-way mirror
I see the world,
But it does not see me.

I stare at it, day and night
Until my eyes can no longer stay open.

I see the people around me
Carrying on, day to day
They cannot see me, for they see only themselves.

They are in awe of their own reflection,
Unwilling to destroy locked stares with themselves.

Some people see only their faults
Constantly attempting to hide them away
While the rest see only their self-imagined perfection.

But what they both miss is their inner beauty.
They cannont see it, and would rather pretend it doesn't exist.
"I can't see it," they say,
"Who is looking anyways?"

I look through my one-way mirror.
I cannot see my outter self,
Only those around me.

But I wonder-
"Can they see me?"

Llowell

touching...
it's a shame that in a forum like this
you can't get an opinion
beyond the ususal
retoric.
I've submitted bits that meant
worlds to me....
I'm lucky if i get a hmmmm....
or a "deep, i wish i'd written that".
so
from my heart,
i can feel pure emotion in these
words
written here for many to see
but
few to read
thanks.
words
can be written down
and defined...
a dictionary.
or words can spill from one's heart
in bursts of pure
truth.
that's poetry

oh yeah,
dry as a funeral drum...

more than words

"I feel cold as razor blade,
Tight as a tourniquet,
Dry as a funeral drum..."

One of my favorite lyrics of all time...

Oh, and thank you very much for taking the time to comment on my poems!

And welcome to the forum!!

check the suitcase on the left...

I have a poem here(on this forum) called mortality. Tell ME what YOU think...