My Favorite Gothic Poems

The Baker's Stand ~~by me

She writes her poetry with gentle care,
Her breath, so warm,
Forms clouds in the air.
She feels the cold creeping in her skin,
Seeping into her bone,
Where its curse will begin.
But she’s desperate to finish this word,
This last song,
Before she’s no longer heard.
She feels herself slowly slipping away,
Darkness is coming,
It overpowers the light of the day.
She slowly finishes with a final flourish,
She releases the paper,
She wanted to stay but it wasn’t her wish.
The paper flies away, down the road and into a man’s hand,
He reads, astonished.
“This is a place where no one will stand.
“A place where no one will go because,
No one has gone before.
And why would someone go here when,
“This place, I reside, is such a chore?
I have been
And I have gone; will you look for me?
“Look for the girl with blue fingered hands,
Lying on the streets,
By The Baker’s Stand, you will find me.
“My matches are gone, as am I,
Will you remember me?
I do not mind, if you forget-
“I have forgotten me too.”
The man cried,
He ran down the street.
He went down the road,
To The Baker’s Stand.
Looking for the girl with blue fingered hands.
Lying on the streets, where two of them meet,
On the corner,
He found a beautiful girl with a pen in her hand.
Her mouth was slightly agape.
Tears frozen,
On her face, and a ragged dress that would barely keep.
He scooped up the girl and took her home,
In hopes,
Maybe she wasn’t truly gone.
But alas, a night by the fire passed,
Warm beverages,
None that would last.
She was gone but he wasn’t deterred,
He cried,
But he never forgot her or her words.
Perhaps nothing to anyone was the girl,
On the streets,
But she was something to him- she was the world.
So he said goodbye to the girl,
And watched,
As she went back into the earth.
Gone but not forgotten,
Everyone would know her,
Because she was the world.