Poetry



		Poetry



	So.. this is what I call poetry. I will not translate it, for I think poems are wrote in the language in which they were ment to be read. On the Dutch page, you will find the Dutch poems, and you will find the English ones at the English page. That's simple, isn't it? So here will my English poems come when I think they're ready to come. Also, I suppose I will put some other strange thoughts and stuff on here. Some quotes and lines that have no other place yet. And the rest that deserves a place here. Maybe people will think they were ment in the poem, but that is not very common. I mostly do have some vague idea of who I might mean, but not very definite. So I'm very sorry (or not) for those people but it has only happened some times that I really pointed out someone in my poems. And, of course, poems are very personal and I don't want everyone to know what I mean with them. So I probably won't make clear what I mean that often. If I would, then every fool would notice some were not made clear and some others are and one plus one is two. Also in English. I also don't like those poems that make everything so clear. Like: the bird flies, the wind blows and I miss you. There's only one poem I wrote which looks a little like this, but that one's Dutch, so you won't see it here. And another problem is that the Dutch Poetry-part doesn't excist yet. So you'll have to wait for a while until you can see it (if you really want to read it so badly...) This one has no title yet, so if someone pops up with a name, please ma il me. Who wakes me from my flowery bed? Who thinks I'm still asleep and who knows I haven't been woken yet? Who will dry the tears my sleeping me has cried desperate for someone to arrive, and see: it's not me it's just a dream that lingers here and tends to look like me my mirror will notice it's not true and my subconscious knows I'm still waiting for you Turn me back into the real world through the door we cam, we shall leave forever all my hope lies in you don't leave now I am still waiting and as I listen to the rain I notice it are just my own teardrops trying to drown me wake my from this nightmare this daily stallion in my mind Let me know what love feels like this reality is just too real to be true Today, I only live for you Now, this is a quite long one. I also think it needs to be changed at some points, but I just don't see them. Not now. Maybe sometime, but not now. By the way, the first sentence, "Who wakes me from my flowery bed?" comes from Shakespeares Hamlet. Or something else he has written. But it's sure that it comes from Shakespeare. I also thought of using the sentence "Wake me from this nothing I've become", but that would really be too obvious. It comes from Evanescence and I don't think the people that would read it would refer the sentence to the same feelings as I do. I'm actually quite sure they don't. That's why I didn't use it. I will put on some more stuff tomorrow, so enjoy what I've put on today and see you soon again (that's what I hope for). I think someone's really that mad to check my page every two days. I keep on telling myself this person really excists and I just don't know who it is yet... Well, if you want to help me with searching the next chapter of my book, the book of my life, just do it. Please. I am not depressed, for the ones who think that, I just think too much. That's all. But sometimes it's good that I think that much. It helps me sometimes though it may sound weird. Well.. byebye! Until next time I write And its title is: How confused. Thanks to Kimberly.
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