Sweet, Sweet Nothing

by Rascalover

Published August 3, 2011

In Poetry

Never meant to find the beauty
Hidden beneath scars and nightmares
Deep like February’s snow

Running, running
My mind always looking for tomorrow
And the next day, and the next

Tomorrow’s here
And all I can think of is the beauty
My scars will leave here

A broken home
A mother left behind, old and alone
A brother lost and out of control

People who share my story
Friends going off to live their lives
Want memories they’ll keep until late adulthood

The tears have sprung
I never meant to harvest such beautiful memories
Of a childhood I dreamed of leaving behind

Places that I’ll never visit again
Creeks that will be footless
One less car in the right lane

This was my dream
Now it’s here and all the memories
Have made me hesitant

Whispering sweet nothings
About all that will be left behind
Sweet, sweet nothing

Comments & reviews · 4
User avatar
Demoness
Review
Demoness wrote a review Review · Aug 3, 2011

Aoow, this was a really sweet poem, very emotional and all! I liked it alot. Great rythm and flow... maybe think about puntuation? Otherwise. "High Five*

This is my favorite stanza.. it feels very.. Real, or something like that :)

"A broken home
A mother left behind, old and alone
A brother lost and out of control"

Good Luck & Keep Writing

// Demoness

User avatar
LiesOnLies
Review
LiesOnLies wrote a review Review · Aug 3, 2011

Beautiful and at the same time very emotional as well. I really enjoyed reading it and even though I can't necessarily relate to a lot of what's in it..I can relate to the part about growing up and missing out on things...or missing the things you did before but can't do now.

I didn't see anything wrong and felt this one was better than the one you wrote about your brother.

User avatar
Shinrai
Comment
Shinrai commented Comment · Aug 3, 2011

:) I'm not going to nitpick about anything I'm not the one to ask for that kind of stuff but i still really liked this wish you had written more to it!!!!



The continuation of our world depends more on the survival of the kindest than it does on the survival of the fittest.
— Arcticus