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A poem I wrote

GalwayGuy2 · 2013-09-06 17:58:30

I find it kind of funny, but it's very, very amateur. Flesh from sinew fell with a flick, From a slick knife's trick. To see crimson fire, Spill from it's sire. As he tore through he thought, "What is life?" Is it love and passion until death's sought, Or does it all mean naught? Is all that moves meat? No matter how…

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06-09-2013 6:58pm

#1

GalwayGuy2

Registered Users Posts: 2,269 ✭✭✭

Join Date: June 2012

Posts: 2220

I find it kind of funny, but it's very, very amateur.

Flesh from sinew fell with a flick,
From a slick knife's trick.
To see crimson fire,
Spill from it's sire.

As he tore through he thought,
"What is life?"
Is it love and passion until death's sought,
Or does it all mean naught?

Is all that moves meat?
No matter how tough,
To steel teeth,
Is our fragile flame enough?

To hold the cold at bay,
Do we even have a say?
Nay, I say,we live by day 'till we pay,
To end up atop a tray.

He saw frail life,
As he tore through flesh so lush,
To wallow in it’s crimson trail,
And feel the familiar flush.

As the shop bell rang
With a perfume pang.
He couldn't help but smile
At her bright blue eyes
As he handed her, the butcher's buy.

EDIT: Just thought I'd say why I think it's funny. I imagine a teenager who's in a bit of an angsty mood, and is Ugh I hate the world. But then a beautiful woman walks in and he's like nope, never mind.

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