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 Posted: Mon Jul 16, 2007 2:38 pm
I know this is old, but I was just looking around here and found it again. I decided to improve it.
Original poem:
Blood everywhere,
The dead lie among us.
But we will not despair,
For she is coming for us,
She heals our wounds and sooths our hearts,
Fixing up our broken parts,
But I refuse any help she offers,
For I know the truth about her...
All the pain she heals,
She feels.
All our hurts and aches,
She takes,
She feels our pain for us,
And though it hurts,
I think to myself,
"Rather me than her."
New version:
Our blood everywhere,
the dead are lying among us,
we will not despair;
she is coming for us.
She heals our wounds and soothes our hearts,
repairing our broken parts,
but I refuse all help she offers,
for I know our pain is becoming hers.
Everything she heals,
she feels.
Our sickness and aches,
she takes,
and though it hurts,
I think to myself,
“rather me than her.”
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Posted: Mon Jul 16, 2007 5:13 pm
i can related to that feeling
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Anxious Conversationalist
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Posted: Mon Jul 16, 2007 5:18 pm
That's so true, not to mention the ending is so sweet in a heart-felt way. 3nodding
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Posted: Wed Aug 29, 2007 3:42 pm
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Posted: Wed Dec 26, 2007 7:51 am
Aww thanks! *huggles back*
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