David Wicks
David Wicks Poems
This is true movement.
This is physical freedom.
A way of life, a path of destiny.
Reaching new heights, new places, new goals.
...
My life seems cut off by a door.
I lay here, dying, with a stare.
I lay here, dying, without a care.
And I lie here, dying, on the floor,
...
Cold is your heart,
You creature of darkness,
You soulless person of hate!
I loved you, you hurt me,
...
Gaze to the sun;
Such a beautiful sight,
But burning my retinas for it is too bright.
A shadow blocks the ray's path to my eyes;
...
I start my run and I sprint towards the wall,
Standing ahead, about 6 feet tall.
I run and jump two yards away,
Here to practice Parkour today.
...
Watch as the flames dart across this black sky.
Wait for the sound of the Hell Banshee's cry.
Alone here on Earth, regretting thy birth,
The world lies alone with a single man walking.
...
Sometimes
When I feel like I'm nothing, I cry.
Sometimes
When I'm lonely, I wish I could die.
...
The only one I have is you.
Can you promise this too?
Will you always be mine?
Because I'll always be thine.
...
I'm sitting here
At the end of all things,
And my best wishes go
To all human beings,
...
Weep not for my heart,
Yet it weeps for me,
That all I can do
Is stare at She.
...
Oh woe is me! Oh woe is me!
A man has fallen on my feet, you see,
And I have places that I must be,
But I cannot wriggle free!
...
Fear absorbs his thoughts.
A dark figure,
Like that of a demon,
Comes ever close to him.
...
Better be nimble,
Better be quick
If you wish to jump over the candle stick,
For if you don't,
...
Lost. Scared. Complete. Worried. Empty. Destroyed. New. Made. Forgotten. Forgiven. Regret. Anger. Disuse. Annoyance. Loveless. Soulless. Brainless. Deleted. Depleted. Retarded. Crashed. Smashed. Destructive. Wanted. Hated. Segregated. Abhorred. Removed. Exhausted.
I feel...
...
To whom it may concern,
Though of you I hold no knowledge:
Whatever you want,
I shall give you;
...
David Wicks Biography
David Wicks, author and poet, was born on September 2,1991, to Mr. Stephen Wicks and Mrs. Pamela Wicks, at Delnor hospital in Geneva, Illinois. At the young age of three (3) , he began to play the piano. This was a catalyst for many things to come. With the practicing of the piano came an undying passion for music, and with that came a fascination with lyrics. Seeing lyrics as poems sung to instruments, Wicks began to write his own poetry. As time progressed, he felt that he was finally able to publish the poems to the internet to receive critiquing to improve his skills. Through many hard-to-take comments, in the end he came out a better writer because of it all. And in later years to follow, English and Literature classes in school taught him lessons on how to write poems and stories, and the improvement is great. Today, David Wicks still writes his stories and poems. He plans to write until the day he dies, for, to quote him: 'Emotion is eternal, and so is the poem. For this, I, too, may be eternal.')
The Best Poem Of David Wicks
This Is Parkour
This is true movement.
This is physical freedom.
A way of life, a path of destiny.
Reaching new heights, new places, new goals.
The city is the setting, the obstacles the blockades.
The Flow is the fuel, your body the machine.
This is Parkour.
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4/26/2024 8:12:01 AM # 1.0.0.1119
