To Meet Again Poem by Nate Hawk

To Meet Again



The sky hangs low with clouds dark grey
Lightning throws sparks through humid air
Heaven opens drowning all in the way
I stand beneath with no heart for feeling or despair

Pictures resonate of a night such as this when clouds lay low
My jacket across your shoulders and your hand clasped round mine
Three moons gone now oh! Where did you go?
A Shell of one so happy and humble left behind

The memories are sacred though the bond now shattered
Standing in a field watching your silhouette forever vanish
My mind like a car crash, twisted, broken and battered
The Pain haunting dreams and reality alike, never banished

Said myself when you go your spirit will always live within me
Now I cry awake, cry asleep, inconsolable and torn
You never built me a prison, but I'll never be free
Till in new life your hand is mine to hold again
And together we'll watch a new day dawn

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Ruchi Chaurasiya 30 August 2018

Dear Nate, Your poem reflects intense feeling and the way you jot down your worlds through nature's preposition, make it even great. Pictures resonate of a night such as this when clouds lay low My jacket across your shoulders and your hand clasped round mine Above two are my Favourite lines.

0 0 Reply
Captain Cur 18 July 2012

Nice poem Alexis, well written and it Is good to let the reader interpret their own meaning.

2 2 Reply
Nate Hawk 18 July 2012

Thanks Robin, I did think that myself I just wanted to leave it vague so the reader could interpret it either way. You're comment is appreciated I will try to make my next one clearer!

2 1 Reply
Robin Bennett 18 July 2012

Hi Alexis, The poem itself is quite good. Your formatting at word choices work well. The only thing I am missing is, are you writing of a dream, or was this person taken from you. That point is not clear and just a tiny bit confusing to the overall story telling. Other than that, you are off to a great start! -Robin xoxo

3 1 Reply
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success