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Gaping Hole (Free verse) by sonawrote I wish I could forget you
Strip you from my mind
why canât my heart remember
that I left you behind
Why donât I want to understand
this wasnât part of fate
maybe itâs because
you werenât just to date
I fell in love with open heart
you saw into my soul
you werenât part of the plan
to fill in this gaping hole
so I ran from that which filled it
and dug it deep again
tried to cover traces
with booze and drugs and then
the hole was deep as ever
at the bottom was my soul
and I shed these tears because
you use to make me whole
I know itâs all my fault
cause I was too afraid
to believe in something better
than the choices that I made
and now the choices I made
are swallowing my soul
cause I really wanted you
to fill this gaping hole.
Up the ladder:
Mixed Feelings
Down the ladder:
Where Have We Gone
Votes: (green: user, blue: anonymous)
Arithmetic Mean: 4.25
Posted: April 18, 2005 8:28 PM PDT; Last modified: April 20, 2005 7:16 PM PDTWeighted score: 4.910598 Overall Rank: 9630 The following users have marked this poem on their favorites list:
Comments:
I edited the title since some of the MORONS that read here are trying to be comedians.....and doing a pathetic job at it
well, although my physical appearance is a little below average, moron is unfortunately completely incorrect. I did win that genetic lottery, somewhat, though I have frivolously pissed away that blessing over the years. In fact, I took an iq test last year in which I totally bombed and scored only 139. It's a good thing I never got around to joining Mensa or I would now have to suffer the embarassment of having my ass kicked out.
Feels like something I would of wrote. I trulty feel the meaning, if only these other "critiques" could see that.
A touch repetive, but I easily connected with this.
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That way it's nice and snug when someone new comes along.
And you are correct, actually. In terms of physical appearance, I was definitely not a winner of any genetic lottery. How interesting to discover your primary way of judging people is how pretty their face is. I'd never have guessed that either, from the web page where you scale the picture of yourself to make you look skinny (though oddly rubbery, to be honest, sort of like the stretchy girl in the incredibles when she is stretching. Is that look in style now?)
The sanctimonious live hollow lives!
lol. yes, it's sad isn't it? the time I spend proselytizing myself. But very astute of you to notice. This is precisely why I have multiple users on 'ranker: each represents a disjoint set of beliefs, and they waste huge amounts of time trying to convert each other to their view points. It's like Sybil, but without the satanic cults. Probably because at some deep level I just find the whole idea of satanic cults fundamentally silly.
As far as stats: I don't care a whit about your stats. If you knew me, or even if you bothered to become vaguely familiar with my posting history before jumping into an exchange and making an idiot of yourself, you would realize my comment was entirely self-deprecatory. Ok, well, predominantly. Mostly. If not mostly, at least somewhat.
As to my being sanctimonious...well...as much I love the sound of the word, unfortunately I think I swear & curse a bit too much to qualify for it as an appellative :( You can call me "fucking sanctimonious bastard" if you like though -- that would, if delivered in a properly sarcastic tone, be more accurate.
That was the point of my comment.
In other words, it WAS constructive criticism and your not recognizing it as such is your own failing. It was pointing out that your poem immediately fails as a whole because of a glaringly obvious double entendre. A common pitfall, actually.
If you ever managed to get your writing to a level where real writers would consider letting you be part of a real writing workshop, you would very quickly find out that "constructive criticism" has nothing at all to do with the little wet dream you have of a group of people patting you on your back for your cleverness and stroking your metaphorical genitals in loving adoration of your brilliance.