08-03-2015, 09:22 AM
So, this is my first draft of my first poem i've wrote. Trouble is it doesn't exactly have flow to it. But i struggle to add flow such as rhymes without it sounding happy which is the opposite of what i'm trying to achieve. Any feedback is more than welcome and thanks so much if you read it all!
His curiosity for the door,
But never knocks.
He's scared. Scared of abandonment,
Or the rude breach of reality
That comes crashing & barraging down.
Like an uninvited snake waiting,
Waiting for him to pop the question
He is prepared for anything,
With depleted, punctured life jackets.
He's heartbreak bound, courtesy of fatal attraction,
Still he tampers with the rivets of her heart.
The attempt to steal a glance of inside,
Like a romantic heist. Or wishful lust.
As time goes by his confidence becomes frantic.
They laugh. His eyes adjust, ears tune in search for her...
She laughs. He laughs.
Of course he laughs.
Don't you know,
That man is slave to what he cannot have?
They beg him. I beg him to free his shackles,
Yet he has grown dependent on her voice,
He loves the way she smiles and is addicted,
To the way she bleeds his heart.
With his back on the meat hook he fantasizes,
And invents a reciprocation of his affection.
He fears at the end of the lustful pursuit,
The credits will read an ongoing,
Unshakable,
Unfailing,
Unconditional Lust.
His curiosity for the door,
But never knocks.
He's scared. Scared of abandonment,
Or the rude breach of reality
That comes crashing & barraging down.
Like an uninvited snake waiting,
Waiting for him to pop the question
He is prepared for anything,
With depleted, punctured life jackets.
He's heartbreak bound, courtesy of fatal attraction,
Still he tampers with the rivets of her heart.
The attempt to steal a glance of inside,
Like a romantic heist. Or wishful lust.
As time goes by his confidence becomes frantic.
They laugh. His eyes adjust, ears tune in search for her...
She laughs. He laughs.
Of course he laughs.
Don't you know,
That man is slave to what he cannot have?
They beg him. I beg him to free his shackles,
Yet he has grown dependent on her voice,
He loves the way she smiles and is addicted,
To the way she bleeds his heart.
With his back on the meat hook he fantasizes,
And invents a reciprocation of his affection.
He fears at the end of the lustful pursuit,
The credits will read an ongoing,
Unshakable,
Unfailing,
Unconditional Lust.