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Joseph Orton Poems
The Forbidden & Unwanted 'X'
I don't think. I could ever let you go. I may sound like a weirdo. But I just wanted you to know.
I'm sorry we don't desire the same things. But I'm no angel, for I don't have wings. I'm not saying I am the devil. He is on a completely different level.
Dead & Gone... So Long!
I exist, In a decaying abyss. With nothing but, Eerieness and mist.
Holes. My body is full of them. Nothing seems to fill them. With every person I meet.
The chains that I thought bound us. Are just in my head. You see no chains. You see nothing to bind us.
Cry to me, lie to me. Tell me all the things you want to be. Make out that you are something pure. Then tell me these feelings were premature.
When It All Falls Apart
At the start it was all beauty to the eye. I really thought that our love could never die. But right at this point, I see nothing but the ashes. Now the fire has died down, I knew you could no longer bat your eye lashes.
To A Time That Will Never Happen, and T...
I miss the lies. I miss the uncontrollable reaction of putting on my disguise. I miss the silent judgements running through your head. I miss the fact that you promised all those nasty things you said.
Amnesia (Praying For Death)
The day is dying. The sun has gone. Will it be reborn? Or will it disintegrate?
Lost In Paradise
No Light. Not Even A Sliver. A Cold Castle. Here I Lay Unconscious.
If I were to say goodbye. To every day and night. Will I still see the sun. Before I become the broken one.
I have a Tornado in my chest. It won't let me rest. The winds are getting higher. This isn't what I desire.
The Lonely World
If I were to fly. Right into the sky. Right into the sun. Where all my worries come undone.
There was a light. It was oh so bright. But then it shattered into a tiny shard. Why does it make me hurt so hard?
Comments about Joseph Orton
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
The Forbidden & Unwanted 'X'
I don't think.
I could ever let you go.
I may sound like a weirdo.
But I just wanted you to know.
You really did brighten my life.
You were my only summer.
In my years of winter.
Even though are time was short.
I'll never forget what we had was sought.
I know deep down that I will forever miss you.
Even if you are still in my life, I can't kiss you.
I tend to fall to deep.
Even after a week.
You captured me, like no one else.
I feel like I'm under a spell.
I really do wish you felt the same still.
But as long as ...