An Ogre's Tale

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An Ogre's Tale

Somewhere within a hostile land, and within a cave, hides a lair,
Far from the eyes of those that see.
And therein hides a freakish ogre,
Hiding in the darkness, longing only to be free.

The ogre was never always such,
For once he was as plain as the rest.
But over time his fortunes have plundered,
Such that now, for him to hide is best.

For many years he walked amongst us,
Ever ashamed of what his form brought forth.
And he had many a reason to be ashamed,
Since others could never tolerate his worth.

To the ogre, being seen caused much despair,
But a way out, he could never find.
The pain of being a freakish creature,
Amongst men, destroyed his mind.

Though years have passed, no change to him can be found,
And all he longs for is to walk amongst the free.
But since there is no cure to being what he is,
The unfortunate ogre knows only himself, and the poet, that is-me.

Nice. Sad though.

Thanks, for the compliment Major.

I didn't feel like starting a new thread, so i'll just post it here. been feeling a bit sad so i wrote this...


The Pebbled Shore

A gloomy mist befitting of your gloomy eyes,
Descends upon the empty, pebbled shore.
It seems true that the world is filled with sighs,
And that your chance to escape is no more.

Since you stood still, so did the clouds,
That choose to keep the sun away.
Leaving the everlasting gloom, below and above,
That descends upon the empty , pebbled shore.

You look towards the endless sea and the wave,
That keeps you trapped, alone here on the shore.
Watching water meet with rock, a barrier most grave,
Knowing your chance to escape is no more.

On the horizon you see distant vessels moving,
Though never towards your lonely stretch of land.
You wish to know what it’s like to be coming or going,
And if there’s more to life, than etching sadness in the sand.

But you stood still, so did the clouds,
That choose to keep the sun away.
Leaving the everlasting gloom, below and above,
That descends upon the empty , pebbled shore.

If only you had something to keep you afloat,
Instead of the inferior boat, beached along the gloomy shore.
One without holes, or defects, with a painted coat,
To be the means of escape you always hoped for.

But all you’re left with are words of your own,
Which you place in a bottle and throw into the sea.
Perhaps hoping that it be found by someone you’ve known.
Or someone you’re looking for, but someone you cannot see.

And what if a bottle finds its way to your hidden place?
To know whether it’s meant for you, you can never be sure.
So a gloomy mist befitting of your gloomy face,
Descends upon the empty, pebbled shore.

The waves come and go, taking time away from you,
As you sit facing the sea that encloses the pebbled shore.
You realize the world beyond was not meant for you,
And that your chance to escape is no more.

Hope you're feeling a little better now...

You have strong imagery in both of your poems, which draws the reader right in

Thanks Major

yeah i'm feeling a bit better now. sometimes i just need to get those feelings out and writing is one those ways. i'm just glad someone took the time to read it

I think you did well writing about that.

I wish I could write about my feelings in that way.

Sad and lyrical, I like your work a lot.

^ Thanks qwerty

Whatever comes to mind just put it with pen to paper. you'll be surprised with what you can come up with.

I liked the poem in the OP even if it was sad. A lot of poetry I've read tends to confuse me, but this one was very clearly written and caused no such confusion.

^ thanks. your art is pretty cool

But nothing of much sentiment enters into my mind.

Oh, I love the waves,
The waves on the sea,
It suits me fine,
To drink Strongbow at the coast,
On a summers day, in the North West.

Do you mean like that?

exactly like that.

Thanks.

I wont hijack your lovely thread, and make it all messy with my s**t.

The Caged Bird

The caged bird, unfit for flight;
With clipped wings keeping it ground.
Who in hoping for freedom, reserves its might;
Knowing but a few can hear its sound.

It dreams for wings, Freedom's wings;
And to join the flocks in the sky.
Wanting to know what Freedom brings;
When the air is holding it up high.

But without wings, it needs to be confined;
To keep it safe, from that it cannot escape.
As if life needs to be cruel, in order to be kind;
Leaving it behind, prisoner to a lonely fate.

It's left to sing its sad song, in the hope;
Another bird out there will respond.
Giving his heart the strength with which to cope;
With the longing for the world beyond.

Perhaps out there, somewhere, is another caged bird;
Whistling its own tune, hoping to find,
The ear that makes sense with what it's heard;
One which knows the plight, of the trapped mind.

But barriers will remain, no matter who listens;
And perhaps its longing for more will grow.
If only its mind, like its heart, could widen;
Perhaps the freedom of its shelter, will finally show.

Have you ever tried free verse?