Oxymoronic Ire

2 12 2011

-I found this poem in a notebook I used when I was twelve (I start writing in a different notebook every birthday).  I believe I wrote it when my first boyfriend cheated on me, or perhaps I was mad at my mom.  Unfortunately, I hadn’t started dating my writing yet so I may never know. The only revisions were made in the poem’s formatting.  I might have been a tad melodramatic in my pre-teen years.  What girl isn’t?

My eyes are dry

There is nothing left to cry

All my emotions

Are now expressed as oceans

With ten foot tall waves

That fill up my days

My rage

Has long since

Broken it’s cage

My empty book

Is on it’s last page

My heart is an empty chamber

Empty

Yet filled by anger

My everlasting ire

A dying fire

My eyes are dry

There is nothing left to cry

 

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5 responses

2 12 2011
rastelly

Desensitised to all the
pain and suffering anound
you. Sick of those who keep
calling your attention to it –
you just want say bite me –
I’m out of tears.

I feel that way a lot.

4 12 2011
Vampire Weather

Beautifully tragic and frustrated. My heart is touched as I read this and I feel the connection of feelings like this I have shares recently. Lovely

4 12 2011
catcherofstars

So glad my poetry can be connected to the life of another. It’s rather funny actually that I wrote this poem so long ago but the day a found it I was feeling the same way I was when I originally wrote it.

4 12 2011
S Basu

not bad for a twelve year old. the sarcasm is well reflected.

4 12 2011
catcherofstars

Haha thanks!

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