Lemme know what you think of these poems, vote for best!?

';Masters of the Con';



what lies in the dark of a con mans heart?

he's got ten different personas interred,

how many emotions can one man master,

riches, fun, and fame,

who needs morals when you can have any name,

faking love is a artisan trade,

giving lonely woman a sweet seranede,

quick to speak with lips like lemonade,

sweet but sercretly sour,

he never sleeps, on the watch every hour,

moving from place to place,

changing his grace and his face,

locking away the cold regret,

his trangressions and soul haven't met,

he says, ';I'll atone when I die';,

while hoping no one can hear him cry,

of all he knows of the cold and deceit,

it's passion, caring, and devotion,

that he'll never meet,

he's gone to far to go back again,

to the dark of his heart,

what lies inside no one will know,

what lies there, his lies,

are all that make him go,

we all know this man,

parellel to the back of our hands,

he is us, we are him,

synonomous in all,

we master the con.



';Give it, cherish it, and be';



I spent my days in self-opression,

morose, succumbing to depression,

questioning all I could disprove,

forgetting somethings cannot be seen,

embracing pain, all of the obscene,



I drifted the hours in saddness

self-loathing, existing in maddness,

alluring all my demons,

wondering why things go astray,

hating life, all of their ways,



I surrendered to the clock,

alone, finding my heart locked,

apathetic to my lively dues,

dying with a steady beat,

interred nostalgia, escaping a vast feat,



blind with no hand to guide me,

longing to feel all which is fleeting........



like a sunset, lost in a reverie,

like a kiss, moments of eternity,

like a victory, next is the world,

like an epiphany, realizing beauty in all you see,



nearing the hollow end of lifes cooridor,

dropping to my knees,

screaming, please, please,

she answered, and I hurt no more,



my love,

she helped me see,

sunsets are every day, dreams can be reality,

kisses mean forever, seconds pass away,

victory is will, no longer broken,



Beauty is realizing one thing,

life is,

love,

give it, cherish it,

and be.





';Sorrow The Constant';



A steady susurration brushes to their ears,

malevolent remedies to ease the pain,

fallacious testimony led them astray,

arresting the outspoken,

unknowingly making martyrs of men,

the living live in cells with mice,

democracy has been broken,

chaos has ascended among them,

hovels to shelter from the nights,

young children weep in the ice,

existing as advocates of dismay.



there is no tomorrow,

half of a day,

sorrow is a constant,

that won't go away.



';A Myriad of Reasons';



candle light reflects the drops,

sanguine expression of glass art,

a myriad of reasons,

to the desolate design,

perpetually hidden,

an artisan of obscurity,

meticulous in plot,

his death has reasons,

you'll have naught of,

simply a message,

to cryptic to speak,

suicide has no cowardice,

no justice to tell,

or final destination,

heaven or hell,

death is simply,

the last call,

dust to dust,

a grand skeme,

were born to fall,

some just decree when and why..

possibly not the auspicious path,

yet death is death,

spin your wrath,

the ground nullifies your tongue,

until you and the dead are one,

you stand a vacuous martyr,

whom for no one will cry....

pray for the moment you die,

so some poor soul will wonder why...









';Vials of Introspection ';



Gazing to the gloomy sky,

vials of introspection,

derived of tears,

entwined with memories,

past, present, what could have been,

holding my ears,

oh what could have been.....

echoes imerse my mind,

I try not to second guess,

why I left you behind,

unrequited, loveless,

what never was,

I see will never be,

a tempest of contempt traverses everything,

doubting my conviction, at last I will succumb,

damning the holy, becoming wholey numb,

sufferer to circumstance,

pentinence is my Shangri-La,

cascading into desolation,

borderline to devastaion,

I've felt a division of my heart,

half amnesic to the pain,

the latter I feel will always remain,

trial and everlasting conviction,

only Abaddon could suffice,

to rift the embrace,

if I believed,

I'd call for an angel,

to help me save face,

give me a beacon of hope,

send me a letter,

talk for a while,

so I can recall,

how to truely smile =)



';The Battle Within';



this novel not yet comprised,

pages blank, no surprise,

the diary of a broken man,

faced with choices,

to die naturally? or by his own hand....

illusory ink blots each chapter,

first or the inevitable end,

author unknown,

does he deserve a name?

no words of blame,

only shame,

he writes it for himself alone,

because he is alone.....

amidst the friends and the caring,

he is a martyr of his own discerning nature,

this unholy sacrament to his will,

chapter 1, the beginning, the start of the end,

all before the last, tell who he'll be,

an enigma to himself, victimLemme know what you think of these poems, vote for best!?
Each of your poems have potential, and each need editing. Your poems are relatively good, but you did them a disservice by posting them all at once...this is too much for most YA answerers to handle, so this is the only reply you received (at least so far). I would suggest you post each poem again, after editing, and get comments on each of them. Don't put them up like contestants in a beauty contest...each is good in a different way, so get comments on them and don't force others to choose which is best. When you do the edits, read them out loud, or better yet, have someone read them out loud to you so you can hear where the hard spots are more easily.



...keep writing...keep posting, but post them one...at...a...time.