Showing posts with label poetry world. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poetry world. Show all posts

You tug at my heart


Remove this melancholy that drapes my soul.
Your disagreeable state made me gloomy;
My affection for you has grown unemotional
With no sense of conscience.
You tug at my heart,
You graze my face with your ill-mannered hand,
You use your mouth for encouraging lies
And your eyes program my additions.
On my knees I beg for a remedy;
You savage man, let me retire.
Understand my loathing for you
As I understand your hatred for me.
Let me go, let me be, let me deteriorate
Without your succor.
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She tells him she loves him...

love poetry

                  She tells him she loves him, when really she doesn't care,
all along she plays this game unfair.
He thinks that he loves her, when he can really care less,
he's just in need of someone to caress.



They go on with this relationship or whatever it might be,
as long as they think each others happy. 
Sadness in her eyes, his disappointment deep inside,
they both feel the need to die.



She wipes her tears, as he wipes his own,
they do love each other it's just their evil clone.
They say to one another I love you so,
and throughout this struggle there's no letting go.



I'm that girl and my boyfriends that boy,
and now we hope life we can enjoy.
We try our hardest not to fight,
and in the end hold each other tight.



Because love is both wicked and good,
I just wish from the start we understood.
That there's no letting go, no turning back,
no giving up, of this we lacked.
                                                    By Jessica Henderson 
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My love is of a birth as rare...





My love is of a birth as rare
As 'tis for object strange and high:
It was begotten by Despair
Upon Impossibility.
Magnanimous Despair alone
Could show me so divine a thing,
Where feeble Hope could ne'er have flown
But vainly flapped its tinsel wing.
And yet I quickly might arrive
Where my extended soul is fixed
But Fate does iron wedges drive,
And always crowds itself betwixt.
For Fate with jealous eye does see
Two perfect loves, nor lets them close:
Their union would her ruin be,
And her tyrranic power depose.
And therefore her decrees of steel
Us as the distant Poles have placed
(Though Love's whole world on us doth wheel)
Not by themselves to be embraced,
Unless the giddy heaven fall,
And earth some new convulsion tear;
And, us to join, the world should all
Be cramped into a planisphere.
As lines (so loves) oblique may well
Themselves in every angle greet:
But ours so truly parallel,
Though infinite, can never meet.
Therefore the love which us both bind,
But Fate so enviously debars,
Is the conjunction of the mind,
And opposition of the stars.

                     By   Andrew Marvell
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