late nights

late nights [+ favourites]

i just want to get some feed back on this poem i wrote.
Late as the sun fades in to the heavens I find my self looking at a familiar routine. My heart races, my mind passes. My body trembles at each and ever step and sounds I make shake my mind and soul as they intensifies with every movement I make. It is as if I have become the center attention to the entire world. It is at that point in which I can no longer bear the sounds around me, that my step quickens as if I am being chased by a nameless figure in the black night sky. It is when I finally get lost in the black loneliness of night that I feel free. In this darkness is a new found freedom that which no man or women could truly take from me. It is my time to find the one I truly love and in the darkness of night we will be free. It is the feeling of her skin and the touch of her kiss that keep me alive for she is my heart and soul. She is the only thing in my life that is worth dieing for. I would give my last breath just to make her happy for she is my night and day. She brings about a passion in me that only she may see it is on this dark lonely night that I look to the side of me hoping that maybe you are laying next to me. So that we can embrace one another’s love until the time comes when I must to come back down to earth and slip away into the darkness in which I came.

""Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth" -oscar wilde"

This is a very nice peice of prose. You could develop it into a story, its very descriptive and quite romantic and could be developed into something really special.

To make it into a poem you need to give it a metrical structure.

Its good stuff though, keep it up.

""Each child holds the world in an open hand to mould it into any shape they choose.""

thanks, it actually is a story,not a poem. there is more to it that i did not post .i wrote that was a poem not thinking.

""Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth" -oscar wilde"

Well, its the kind of writing that drives us girls nuts, well some of us atleast. and all we can think is damn, is that going to ever happen to me. is someone going to ever want us that much? so, uh, nice piece of prose, but will you carry on, or i guess the question is are you able to? many are able to write small paragraphs that are beautiful and quite poetic, but they cant carry that flow for long.

"I have nothing to be proud of today but hopefully tomorrow I will."

heres another section
enjoy

As find myself lost in the darkness once again, your touch still lingers and my body still trembles with every beat of my heart. The passion in which we shared keeps me warm as the heat from my body escapes in to the cool night air. I run through the night air like the whispers that we shared. However tonight night seems different, the eerie glow from moon burns through my soul. Tonight I don’t feel alone my sense are alive as a scent catches my attention. So I stop and laded out in the damp grass and waited. It was then with I saw a figure of angelic proportion. I wonder could my eyes be deceiving me because I left such angle lying in the comfort of her bed but I knew my eyes were not deceiving me when she forced her body upon mine. Her head fell upon my neck and she whispered lets be free.

""Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth" -oscar wilde"

good, im glad.

"I have nothing to be proud of today but hopefully tomorrow I will."

but what i would have ended it with, would have been, set me free. that would have been totally hot. but none the less it was beautiful, and ure young, it will develop into better writing. if you read.
read nikki french.

"I have nothing to be proud of today but hopefully tomorrow I will."

this actually is not the ending. there is more to the story but i have not finished that part. so when i find time ill try to finish it and post it

""Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth" -oscar wilde"