Most people... when they read my poems think that I'm some person that is depressed and suicidal. If you read this and think that.... im telling you right now how wrong you are. I write... what I've felt, what I know, and what I see. Usually when I write... I'm not upset, I just remember. This is called river. I'm not going to say what it means to me, because I want you to interpret it for yourself.
Standing in a river,
Blood is in the rain,
Standing in the desert,
Pouring out my pain.
All alone,
All the same,
Never again,
Never again.
Poison words,
Deadly actions,
Regretful sins,
And ashes fallen.
Walking in the desert,
Wandering to nowhere,
It’s pointless to keep going,
But to stay is in despair.
A rain of blood,
Pouring down,
On my face,
And all around.
In a river I stand,
Prepared to accept fate,
A river of my own blood,
I’m afraid that you’re too late.
A forgotten girl,
All alone,
Inside my head,
My own world.
It is no problem when I’m gone,
I am replaced,
The devil’s spawn,
I waited but was never faced.
Someone else’s greed killed me,
The girl who was so strong before,
Cried out in pain,
I’ll take no more!
Those poison words,
But do not fret,
I have been replaced,
But not quite yet.
That river is so high now,
Drowning will be my death,
Drowning in my own blood,
The blood I gave away, yet,
To save her life,
She took it greedily,
And now that I am dying,
She turned her back on me,
Found someone else,
Who has no mind,
Someone who,
Is like her kind.
She has killed my soul,
But I will not accept defeat,
For I have killed much more of hers,
Then she could ever meet.
An invisible knife,
Lies in her heart,
The one I placed there,
As a delicate art.
As long as she lives,
She shall remember,
The girl who died,
When she could’ve surrendered
-sigh- And that is my poem. If you have any comments e-mail me at balonar@hotmail.com... I doubt ill get it, but ill check.