Poetry Prompt #4

How many thoughts do you have daily that you never speak on? How many emotions run through you that you never claim out loud? Why are you afraid to share with others what you're going through, feeling, or trying to figure out? Well, where poetry comes in. This week's poetry prompt is a time to confess things either to yourself or to those whom it may concern. Be bold. Write like no one is reading. 

Remember: These prompts are just starting blocks; you have the freedom to go wherever your “pen” takes you.

Please: If you want to respond to this prompt on your other social media accounts, use the hashtag #RelentlessPoetry & #WritersNeedReaders so I can help highlight your work.

Here is my poem:

You will die before you know the truth 

The whole truth 

Nothing but the 





You will take your last breath 

Before you know 

That every breath I took 

I used to praise your name

You will close your eyes 

Before you know 

That every time I opened mine 

I searched for you 

You will grow still 

Before you know

That the thought of you 

Made my heart move wild 

You will become cold 

Before you know 

That you were the sun 

That set fire to my soul

You will die before you know the truth 

And I hope I die soon after 

To come and tell you


One thought on “Poetry Prompt #4

  1. like your writing and offer you a view from my lens….more can be found at inbetweendestinations.com

    real-time pornography

    our now found cell phones
    map the course taken
    -previously unknown-
    of flesh and adrenaline.
    behind the camouflage,
    the unseen primitive of nature.

    stealth urged and driven urgently
    by technology.

    stop action images
    taste of salt
    dripping off temples,
    abbreviated machine gun breathing
    accompanies being obscene
    and unseen
    with you.

    is there sense or rationale
    feeding senseless irrational
    other than the chemical ignition
    of skin on skin?

    in the instant of confusion;
    oh wait,
    your name was what?

    impatience is footnoted
    in our breath on fogged glass;
    signed with smeared fingerprints.
    documentation from the backseat
    i fell in lust with you.

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