Boxed In (Post 2 of Today)

So this one is kind of for the 1st of January where there was no poem and just an introduction. 
Anyway, I went on a creative writing trip in year 12 and was quite proud of some of the poems I wrote. This is one of them :) No picture because it wouldn't be the same box that was the inspiration behind the piece. 
And yes, admittedly I haven't written it this year but I've posted poems I've written in the past before. It still is a poem, written by me :')

Boxed In

I remember being held

in a nervous,

salty, sweaty hand.

Being opened

a gentle whisper as my

lid was lifted.

Revealing the silver circle

with its diamond hat.

Oh, it was romantic.

How she ran into his arms

How he breathed in her

rose perfume, spinning her round

and round in the moon lit streets.

That's all a distant,

fading

memory now.

No longer do I keep company

with jewellery or a silk lined

suit pocket.

Now I'm in a wardrobe

kept in the dark with the

giant shoe boxes.

The other abandoned fellow brotherin

of gifts to her from the past.

The smell of lavender pot-pourri

surrounds me more than the darkness.

My hinges

once pristine

now battered, creased in to

an ugly grimace.

Failing at the Art of Conversation

Shunned to the side
left in the shadows 
to focus on flaws.
Arms crossed
face the floor
and realise the largest
flaw of all
is the fact you're
here
in the shadows 
in the first place. 

1 Month Down

Bloody hell, I managed to do this for a month. It's much more difficult than I thought it would be in all honesty. I'm not sure if I've achieved what I wanted yet . . . the feeling of being creative to the point of inspiring others. Actually, I don't think I'll ever reach that point.  Part of me feels that I shouldn't continue with this, I don't think it's going anywhere. But another part is insisting I stick it out. For now I'll agree with that part. 


I don't wish to use the phrase 'bad day' but mine has not been a good one. So apologies in advance for the next poem, it will sound whiney. In fact, you don't have to read it. To be honest, at this moment in time, I don't even want to write it >.<

The Road of Worry 


Crossing a road 
being run over 
Entering a dark room
being shot
or taken.
Dying
Not being missed
Why would anyone miss me?
Always second best
never put above the rest
shoved aside 
Am I even liked?
Alone.
Always alone.