The never ending search for the right woman.

lightning eyes under threatening skies
no pure queen to light my scene
to hell with your spells
this is self imposed exile
contumacious behavior
an uprising of anger
i dream of death by misadventure
reputation of my miscalculation

again i fail to write from the heart
it’s far too cluttered with emotion
again i fail to pray from the heart
it’s far too polluted

my queen must be in check

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Comments (1)
  • Tammy Wyrick on Mar 7, 2009

    Welcome to triond. I feel that most of your poetry is about a broken home. I can feel the pain and can relate. Take a look at some of mine. Then explore and look at others too. Poetry is like a painting, for each word paints a feeling. Some people will like it, and some will not. For you, just find to write out all of that pain out of your system. Just keep writing. Judge yourself right now. Writing is a great healer.

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