untitled so far

[piano_rock_jade]

So telling all your secrets
To a man in a box,
She takes religion home
In a heart with no lock…

Much less a key
To send us on the hunt
For a self-afflicted cynic,
Who will send us to the front

Of the line outside the gates
Where Thomas leaves us cold.
Near the door in the middle
We all thought would be gold.

But now it’s painted black,
Like our hearts, here on earth.
Liquor washed away our sins,
Avoiding second birth.

We took all of the shortcuts,
We dodged every tide.
We always took it easy,
But still they thought we tried.

The gates are closing up,
On this dank final night.
Oh, how foolish they were
To think we’d earn eternal life.

Now my existence is forgotten
As my tracks are covered up,
By a Bible generation
Spilling sins from a cup.

Forgive me.

[piano_rock_jade]

please review

:wave:

[black rose]

Wow, I actually liked this a lot. My one big complaint would be the rhyming. A lot of times it seems really forced and remember, you don't always have to rhyme.

It's good though, keep writing.

[piano_rock_jade]

Sweet, thanks!

I'll keep working on it.

[lew_1987]

a lot of it was good i thought, although i do agree some of the rhymes are a bit too obvious and forced.

The gates are closing up,
On this dank final night.
Oh, how foolish they were
To think we’d earn eternal life.

i thought that stanza could use some work, but other than that i think its fairly solid

[piano_rock_jade]

Yeah I was thinking about changing that stanza too.

I still want to get across the fact that it's too late, or whatever, and that the subject of the poem isn't getting into Heaven. Because that is, essentially, what it's about.