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Best Poems Written by Matthew Romano

Below are the all-time best Matthew Romano poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Matthew Romano Poem

Hurt

That's when you me most,
when you say I was never there.
I held you when you stumbled,
wiped away your tears when you cried.
Yet I have your words in my hand,
they whisper to me in screams of anguish.
You say I would never listen,
that your voice was hidden in shadows.
I would've given you light,
if I'd have known you were consumed by darkness.
I look down at your final words,
at the embers of our burnt out love.
You say my eyes are closed,
that I live my life in the dark.
It's not that I'm blind...
 
There's just nothing left to see.

Details | Matthew Romano Poem

A Reason To Kill Part 2 Moonlight Killer

He's taller than I thought,
looks stronger too.
Not that it matters,
not long before he becomes another payday.
Sometimes I wonder,
do they have families, friends, lovers?
All I see is a photo and a location,
It's all I need.
Showtime...
Club Macanudo, 63rd Street,
guess he likes a smoke.
Plenty of that where he's going.
I stalk down Madison,
left on 62nd Street towards Fishtail.
Hungry eh?
Me too...
One clean blow,
skull cracked,
crimson sidewalk,
job done.
My work is becoming noticed I see,
they give me such magnificent reviews!
"Death on the Streets", they say.
"Moonlight killer strikes again".
Here's my favourite,
"When will the killings end?"
End?
Don't make me laugh...
 
I haven't even started yet.

Details | Matthew Romano Poem

Our Soldier

Our soldier in battle fighting so well,
serving and protecting whilst staring into Hell.
You have defended your honour, your family and friends
and stood up from the start and brave till the end.
Like brothers in arms you stood side by side,
so brave and so strong you fill us with pride.
When comrades had fallen and brothers were lost,
you would fight for their memory at whatever the cost.
We sent you our letters and hoped you'd reply,
the longer we waited the more we would cry.
We had all fought that war in our own special way,
both you in the field and at home every day.
But now it is time to lay down your arms,
it's time to come home away from the harm.
Our soldier we thank you for all you have done,
our family back together, no need for a gun.

Details | Matthew Romano Poem

My Blank Page

Raindrops race down my window,
like tears from a sky with no reason to smile.
Lightning dances across a blackened dance floor
whilst the air claps it's hands in thunderous applause.
An old wooden desk sits sulking in the corner,
scarred with echoes of journals past.
A dimmed light is staring in to my mind,
a blank piece of paper mocking my every thought.
Sometimes I'll sit for hour upon hour
searching through a tangled web of broken ideas.
My pen is eager to spill it's blood on to the page
yet my mind sits in shadows too afraid of the light.
A police car hurls past on the street below,
the anthem of the night is hitting it's chorus.
Sirens ring out to signal another hunt in the shadows
as the scent of blood sends the chasing pack in to a blue lit frenzy.
Yet still I sit with nothing to say
whilst a cold beer has slithered it's way in to my hand.
I feel the icy chill tumble down my throat,
maybe it will be fuel for a thousand thoughts.
Music...
Good evening Mr Miles Davis and welcome to my blank page.
My mind begins to relax now
as a light shines in to the darkened void of my thoughts.
My pen begins to flow,
finally unleashed from it's wordless shackles.
My thoughts pour on to the page
like the rain that falls from the tearful Heavens.
Finally now my mind can rest,
as I slowly enter a peaceful slumber.
A myriad of thoughts for a new day
and if not?
Well there's always Miles Davis.

Details | Matthew Romano Poem

A Reason To Kill Part 4 One More Life

I've been watching him.
I know his styles, his methods, his mind.
But I've watched long enough.
Time to bring the game to a close.
I follow his every footstep.
If he feels a chill,
it's me breathing down his neck.
But before I call time on our little charade,
a moment of contemplation.
I admire his work
and in another life, maybe we'd even be friends.
But not this life...
I brush past his shoulder,
turn to face him
and as our eyes meet, he knows who I am.
I was expecting more of a struggle
but the blade glides in effortlessly.
I thrust it upwards just to make sure
and I watch as the life drains from his eyes.
His cold expressionless face stares at me
almost like he was expecting this moment.
I withdraw the blade and ease him to the ground.
A little bit of respect towards an exquisite artist.
The famous Moonlight Killer lies cold
and staring up at his precious moonlight.
It's almost sad to see him go.
He was once the King of the Kill,
the Hades of the Headlines!
But not anymore.
Now it's my front page...
 
And I'm a whole new kind of evil.

Details | Matthew Romano Poem

A Reason To Kill Part 3 Another Player In the Game

I guess when you do something so many times,
no matter how terrible,
it becomes almost... normal.
Another darkened alleyway
with gleaming blade in hand.
Won't be gleaming for long...
I approach through shadows,
he has no idea of the hold I have over him.
His head dragged back
and a crimson smile is drawn upon his throat.
His lifeless body hits the floor
and my not-so-gleaming knife carries one more soul.
I wipe his eyes from my mind
and return my only friend to my pocket.
Been a busy week...
Key.
Door.
Newspaper on floor.
Time to read what my adoring public think of my recent work.
Wait a minute.
I'm demoted to the second page!
Ah I see now,
another murderer in town eh?
Four bodies in a week.
Someone's been busy...
So there's another player in the game
who thinks he can steal my front page?
Only one thing to do really...
 
Let's play.

Details | Matthew Romano Poem

I Will Always Be There

On the wings of an angel is where I have gone,
the clouds and the stars are where I belong.
Fear for me not although I'm not there,
cry for me not, please don't shed a tear.
At times you'll feel sad and empty inside,
alone with the world with nowhere to hide.
But I'll always be there holding your hand,
always beside you wherever you stand.
There for you, loving you wherever you go,
guiding you, helping you, I promise you'll know.
In thoughts and in prayers I will always be there,
giving you light in times of despair.
Just look at the stars in the sky up above,
I will always be there, for it's you that I love.

Details | Matthew Romano Poem

With Wonderous Curiosity

For years I've sat in awe
at the twinkling canvas above me.
Staring up at the smiling twilight
with wonderous curiosity
and a childlike innocence.
I see dancing moonbeams
and Jupiter's heavy hold over the night.
But I want to see further...
What if I could see the Earth
as I see Andromeda's distant sparkle?
I lie on the short sharp grass,
gazing into the past.
Does someone stare back at me?
Two sets of eyes, light years apart
unknowingly meeting for the first time.
Unaware of each other's existence
yet asking the same question.
Are we sharing the darkened expanse
or are we alone with the wonders of the unknown?
We tread our soil
and live thankful for the ground beneath our feet.
Yet one glance up at the interstellar playground
and I can't help but ask...
Are we sharing it with someone else?
I hope so...
 
It's getting a bit lonely down here.

Details | Matthew Romano Poem

The Man On the Street

What if you saw a man on the street
lonely and hungry, no shoes on his feet.
Walking alone, no friend by his side
with no-one to turn to, talk or confide.
 
Would you offer your friendship, consider his plight
or simply ignore him, avoiding his sight.
Would you throw him a smile, a wave or a nod
or merely ignore him, muttering to God.
 
Now ask your self this, what if you were that man
struggling along as best as you can.
With nowhere to turn to and no-one to love
seeking some guidance from way up above.
 
Would you hold out your hand and pray for a gift
or look for a smile to give you a lift.
Would you stop and look around for someone to meet
I ask what if you, were the man on the street.

Details | Matthew Romano Poem

A Reason To Kill

His eyes stare up at me,
yet I feel nothing.
No remorse, no fear,
no dizzying high, no soul tearing low.
The numbness is pain enough.
A life draining through my fingers
or a heart stopping in it's chest.
It's all the same to me,
another face to go with the others.
I wash his life from my hands
and I think of how much blood I've poured down the sink.
But when I look in the mirror
my reflection just stares back.
Empty...
I'm alone in what I do, it's better that way.
Nobody to explain my actions to,
no phone call to be made if I'm late home from work,
no mouths to feed or children to clothe.
But what makes a man kill another man?
Power? Maybe.
Control? Possibly.
The ability to decide a man's fate? Perhaps.
Life or death is such a simple choice.
Why do I do it? Simple.
 
It's the only thing I've ever been good at.