title
Learn more about other poetry terms
It doesn’t matter what I name this poem
Or perhaps it won’t deserve a name
We never name the things we plan to kill you see
Since names make it that much harder to watch it die
To tell a story of the famed Knight Hawk
Listen whilst I remember, recall
Ready not yourself for a tale of sweet
For he was never such a declious trait
Knight Hawk began as a boy of late
I believe in the innocence of a child
The freedom of a kid
The choices of a teenager
The maturity of an adult
Me, myself, and I.
That's just all I am.
Living a nice life,
than all of a sudden BAM!
I question if this is me,
if this is all I really do.
For what I've become,
I think I'm overdue.
While we walked up the gravel path through the hills.
I looked upon these stone memorials.
Simply thinking to myself about the days that are flying by, so fast.
The days that mean so little, yet so much at the same time.
Jesus loves me this i know...
Actually i don't i was just told so
blinded by my past i cannot see
The apostle Paul, in the first book of Corinthians and the thirteenth chapter said: "When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a
Words give life,
They create magic,
They create new worlds,
Colors and shapes form before your very eyes,
You are no longer you but someone new,
You live in a distant land far away.
I need an escape,
I need to leave,
But how can I?
I can't run from it,
It ever leave.
The demon inside is too strong,
I can't run,
I can't hide.
You tell me to fight,
Silence!
What ray of light beams through that square of glass?
The time was...where the sun and its light don't shine.
Darkness...for the moment and the victim were right.
I laid to sleep but was awaken from my dreams.
Laying on my sheets, was a demon next to me.
Look at me!
Can't you see the roundness of my belly?
The widening of my hips?
The puffiness of my face and the swelling of my feet?
But yet, I know that you can't see
I'm looking at the waves, entranced by their strength. They throw me under and thrust me aside, as if my presence isn't a bother at all.
If love is a fire burning brighter by the hour
Does it require fuel or burn by its own power?
It always begins in each of us the same
A spark from the eyes,a smile, a flame
