Lit.Org - a community for readers and writers Advanced Search

Average Rating

(0 votes)

You must login to vote

Before Monday night you were taped to the back of a lonely curtain like a beautiful smiling childrenís doll plastered to the back of a rock face
Ending up in all my dreams, watching, waiting for you to say just two words and I could wash my body in hope for just another day
Loving you but not quite like he does, failing to separate the woman from the goddess
Inventing you again and again in my mind until your mind and heart are pickled and boxed away and your body has been covered in bronze
Never could you do wrong, your deep brown eyes staring straight ahead in the darkness like some flawless hawk owl watching over his forest
Death will come to me in four years I heard you say as mysterious waves splashed over a yellow sign on a beach and past girlfriends worked frantically at office computers packed within the boxwork of the earth
Alas you were the face I put to my religion, my hopes and dreams, nothing short of a second Queen

So why when you had so much love, did you betray us all?
Turn your backs on us and sell your soul
Rip his heart out of his chest and force me to watch him picking potatoes with tears in his eyes like the rains that carry salt from the sea to ravage the soil of life
One second more and I might have followed you but I canít
Never again shall I follow you for your image is gone
All along you were only a human being, not a goddess, not a Queen, not even a good person
Caring only about money and power and not about your millions of followers who thought they would die if you were ever gone, but will instead find unity behind a cause you didnít believe but still wrapped up in bright pink paper and a sparkling bow
Healing will come for the others, but not for me, my soul is forever empty since your betrayal

Related Items


The following comments are for "Betrayal"
by claudita

I really like the language and images and emotion of this piece, but I'm having trouble connecting to it. It seems filled with romantic and political intrigue, but I just can't find a key to unlock the door. It's a little too vague for me to figure out who these people are and their relationship to each other.

The writing however is superb: heart pickled and boxed away - packed within the boxwork of the earth - the image of a weeping man picking potatoes. Very fine.

( Posted by: gomarsoap [Member] On: May 20, 2005 )

To gomarsoap
Hi gomarsoap. I appreciate all the comments you give me for my poems. Like you said they don't seem to be all that popular. I particularly loved your comments for this poem. I am actually impressed by how much of it you really do understand. Especially when you referred to "the key to unlocking the door". I already know why you can't find that key but its not really all that vague and mysterious if you think harder about it.

( Posted by: claudita [Member] On: May 22, 2005 )

Add Your Comment

You Must be a member to post comments and ratings. If you are NOT already a member, signup now it only takes a few seconds!

All Fields are required

Commenting Guidelines:
  • All comments must be about the writing. Non-related comments will be deleted.
  • Flaming, derogatory or messages attacking other members well be deleted.
  • Adult/Sexual comments or messages will be deleted.
  • All subjects MUST be PG. No cursing in subjects.
  • All comments must follow the sites posting guidelines.
The purpose of commenting on Lit.Org is to help writers improve their writing. Please post constructive feedback to help the author improve their work.