Firefly fighting



FIREFLY FIGHTING

Knock on my door
Be the man I used to adore
Whose colour of voice made me alive
Your heart hugging mine, like I fly
I'm being held by hands of the cold walls
Like a baby once again I crawl
I stumbled upon a stone, there was a scar
But after stumbling upon you it was so bizzare
I saw invisible man playing guitar
My every scar went being coloured by tar
Now the only light spot is some firefly
Which is happy even if I look at the sky
She knows I better get along with the Moon
Sun makes my scars burn
Firefly keeps me alive on little thread
I'm not gonna make it by myself, she's dread
As a kid I used to tell to my Barbie
Handsome prince will take her to Paris
Mine took me to the gunpoint
He was playing guitar in the front
Faded, what made me feel like frozen kitten
My heart was for the first time bitten
His steps as galloping of wild horses
Now were full of ugly choices
Will I stay with him torturing myself
Or give less dose of pain to this flesh
Because there is no soul inside of me
It gets lost in the hallways of my enemy
Searching for yours to hug me again
But now there is just one love crying
Petals of a rose got wrinkles
I just took off my pink glasses
Firefly keeps me alive on little thread
I'm not gonna make it by myself, she's dread

About this poem

I wrote this song for all those who are unhappy in love, or once they were, trying to find their meaning in life without person they lost.

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Submitted by branka.orlic94 on November 16, 2022

Modified on March 05, 2023

1:19 min read
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Quick analysis:

Scheme aabcdefaffccghIIjklmnnoopqjjrstoII
Closest metre Iambic pentameter
Characters 1,273
Words 260
Stanzas 1
Stanza Lengths 34

Branka Orlic

 · Glina

She and my sister love me the most they always encourage me to apply for competitions because, as they say, I have a huge talent that someone must have recognize. I have a close friend who claims the same. I consider myself a person who goes from extreme to extreme, sometimes introverted, and on another occasion the opposite. More than monetary earnings, although we need consideration bad financial situation, I would like an expert to praise my work. I know tastes differ, writing is enough subjective area once, but from money, fame and everything that could possibly happen to a writer, what fascinates me the most is the idea of ​​someone adequate for that telling me "your work is worth it more…

All Branka Orlic poems | Branka Orlic Books

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