bits of my poetry

I wrote this a long time ago... long before it truly meant anything to me.

But suddenly, as I look through the cardboard box which lies all my complete and incomplete works of writing. This is something I had writtten before in different stanzas different little bits of paper where a single line would happen and nothing would fit.



Here's the original pieces:

And she closed her eyes just to remember but the feeling was gone, she realized at that moment, her life meant now than it had ever meant before.

She felt herself dangling upon a string, hanging so high above him, looking around she wondered if all she saw was all there really was.

Another life, another time, it would have been perfect

The tragedy I face, the sad forgotten truth is that I never said to you what I always meant to.

He thinks he's gone forgotten alone and thriving merely.

This is what those turned into

And she closed her eyes to remember, but the feeling was gone.

she felt herself dangling upon a string, hanging so high above him

Wondering to herself if all she saw was all there really was

Another life, another time, it might have been perfect

but at that moment she realized how much more her life meant

than it had ever had meant before, when he was hers.

The tragedy she faces, the sad forgotten truth

Is that she never said what she always meant to.

But now she's almost forgotten and not so alone

And her soul is not merely surviving, no, it's striving