Poetry

Broken

Description: I wrote this poem my freshman year in college. I had this idea for a recurring line saying “me, alone in an empty black room,” and I basically wrote the poem from there. It’s sort of my version of The Raven by Poe, but with my own sort of depravity added in. I actually converted this poem into a song of the same title, which is one of the movements of my guitar symphony.

Rating: Dig it.

Broken

Dead leaves, lives, nothing in bloom
Death will come and far too soon
You are gone and I am swooned
Me, alone, in an empty black room

You said this was how it’s supposed to be
And now from loneliness I can’t redeem
The side of me that must be free
From the desperate fog and gloom

Someone knocks on the door
But I cannot reach through the nevermore
So I ignore, abhor, and burn to the core
Me, alone, in an empty black room

So I don’t allow others to know
Where I’ve come, where I’ll go
Probably nowhere for there is no glow
Left in where I’ve placed my doom

I need someone, my silence to break
But they can’t get through my desolate wake
But I reach out my hand, save me, for God’s sake
Before the darkness my life will consume

So I become buried, beyond exhume
No one around to build the tomb
This is how I’ll die, alone in my womb
Me, alone, in my empty black room.

© 2002 Morgan Foster

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