Black Carnival

by Curing the Comon Cliche   Apr 12, 2008


Broken mirrors
Broken heart
Worst part of beginning
Is not knowing where to start

I'll give you a riddle
As the clock gives you time
I'll give you a poem
If you give me a reason to rhyme

What breaks like glass?
But cold like stone
Little beats
Remind you you're alone

You have an answer?
I know I do
This heart is broken
Heart I gave to you

Welcome, Dear Reader
Black carnival show
Shards of glass
Distort the moon's glow

Fun house mirrors
That distort your thoughts
Finds kinks in the armour
Enhances blind spots

So many tears
Can't see the clowns grin
Black carnival games
That nobody can win

Love is a roller coaster
Black carnival ride
Crack open this heart
Let's see what's inside

These are my words
This is my art
Black carnival ghosts
Still break my heart

Worst part about beginning
Is not knowing how to end
What if it was all a dream
No, my life is not pretend

And the clouds all hung around
Like black Cadillacs outside a funeral
~modest mouse- black Cadillacs

    report violation
1


Did You Like This Poem?

Latest Comments

  • 17 years ago

    by MeltInHisArms

    ~So many tears
    Can't see the clowns grin
    Black carnival games
    That nobody can win~

    that just describes the dark side of love so perfectly. it looks so beautiful and fun from far away but wen u finally experiece it....it's a whole other story. 5/5
    xoxo
    ~waiting~

  • 17 years ago

    by Cotton Candy Clouds

    Wow very sad poem : /
    "I'll give you a riddle
    As the clock gives you time
    I'll give you a poem
    If you give me a reason to rhyme"
    that was my favorite stanza you are a really good writer
    i nominated your poem for the poetry contest! good luck! 5/5 great job hunn <33

  • 17 years ago

    by StandStill

    Holy cow. just like....wow.

    These are my words
    This is my art
    Black carnival ghosts
    Still break my heart

    ^ idk why. my fave stanza in an amazing piece...

    the flow in this was like...spotless. it was bouncy, because of its shortness. so it's almost...mocking. the rhythm makes it happy, the words, which are what really matter...make it sad.
    wonderful job, me tomato.

Read All Comments (3)

More Poems By Curing the Comon Cliche