The Final Sensitive Poem

I had to try all the beginning exercises once I started, and now that I have, you'll be happy to hear that I'm done writing sensitive poetry. Done for a while, at least. Even if I do write something like this in the near future, I won't put it up here. Or at least that's the plan.

Near the lonely knoll I weep

For all the secrets that I keep

Torment me when I try to sleep

And kill my imaginary sheep,

Thus keeping me awake all night

Clutching my pillow, filled with fright,

Doing the best I can to fight

The fear until the sky turns bright.

But daylight won’t forever stay,

And even if it could,

It wouldn’t help me chase away

The maggots in the hole

(That grows bigger with each new day)

Where used to be my soul.

The world just isn’t big enough

For someone like me to hide

The scathing pain and to act tough

When I'm crying inside.

I’ve tried my best to smile and laugh

While parts of me have died.

But now there’s no one else around

And you won’t hear a single sound

Unless maybe you strain your ears

To try and hear my silent tears,

Though that is something I think you

Will probably not care to do

For you are deaf without your phone

And I would rather be alone.

A few hours later I decide I’m done.

My eyes dry, I’m determined to have some fun.

Begone, ye feelings of dread and despair!

Secrets can spread. I’ve grown too cold to care.

I’ll start by climbing this green hill,

And I won’t stop climbing until

I reach the top covered with snow,

Where wild winds cold as my heart blow,

And then, from the highest point I know,

I’ll hurl insults at the world below.

Few days have passed since I did

What I’d set out to do,

And if you say it was stupid,

I might agree with you

For it felt truly wonderful,

But kind of pointless too

Because very few people heard

The things I had to say

And my soul and mind are still disturbed.

The pain won’t go away.

On the lonely cliff I loiter

For the final time

For I am slowly growing weary

Of making words rhyme.

But unless you write stuff like this,

You may never know

That emotions are hard to hide,

But much harder to show.

I step off the cliff edge a little too soon

Like they do in some kids’ cartoons.

Now I would like to point this out

Before everything goes black:

Unlike those cartoon characters,

I won’t be coming back.


Here are the ones that preceded this:
Sensitive poem 1
Sensitive poem 2
Sensitive poem 3

Sensitive Poem III

I'm not putting in the inspiring picture again because I'm thinking of illustrating this soon.

I saw a genius in the mirror today.

I smiled at her and thought, “No way!

She couldn’t have been here since yesterday!”

She smiled back, but didn’t say a word.

Her lips moved, but how absurd—

The sound of my own voice was all I heard!

I waved to her, and she waved to me

At exactly the same time. How could this be?

I had to solve this intriguing mystery.

I don’t know why I did it, but I took a few steps back,

Closed my eyes and ran into the mirror with a smack.

The girl disappeared, and everything went black.

A few moments later, my body turned to stone.

I heard a distant voice say with a little groan,

“This is what happens to those who always live alone.”

Not that anything I write is 'normal', but seriously, my poems are getting increasingly bizarre. Matt Groening, what have you done to me?

Sensitive Poem I
Sensitive Poem II

More Sensitive Poetry

This never fails to give me some sort of inspiration, however weird the results may be. I was hoping to write something unnecessarily dramatic and somewhat funny like my previous Sensitive Poem, but what I came up with is this morose thing instead. Well, at least it's still a Sensitive Poem. 

Across the lonely beach I wander,
Staring at the small ships yonder,
Wondering if I'm getting fonder
Of the sea, though once I scorned her.

I rejoice in my solitude,
So other people think I'm skewed
Although I'm just a normal dude
Whose emotions are misconstrued.

The gathering clouds overhead
Grow dark and heavy as they shed
Their cold, harsh tears onto my head
Almost as if they wish me dead.

Suddenly the sea of grey
Surrounds my legs and makes me sway
And to my uttermost dismay,
The sand beneath me slips away.

On that note, happy new year, everybody!