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Miscarriage and mortification convene languidly in the nooks of my soul.
Quelling my fervour and vitality to perpetuate or persevere.
Significance diluted; only rancid afflictions torment my dull heart.
Pink-rimmed watery eyes bleed tears of forgotten passions,
whilst lacklustre emphatic sympathies deluge my unseasoned psyche
devoid of benevolent intent, diseased by loss.
Gleaning shattered remnants of beatitude from my elapsed precedent
but the jigsaw no longer fits together.
A deep black-lined sullen, morose void accumulates in the puzzle’s centre.
Beckoning, sneering, urging, compelling me to commit the final act
Desperation overlaps reason, powerlessly blinding sense.
The gaze of one million pairs of sightless eyes torches my core.
Stiletto blade reasoning. Slit wrist theory.
Down the road, not across the street.
Cavernous forearm flesh wounds yawn sickeningly wide.
Pain fades as coldness blankets my sallow cadaver.
Coroners report protocol.
Generic depressed teenage suicide #1.
Quelling my fervour and vitality to perpetuate or persevere.
Significance diluted; only rancid afflictions torment my dull heart.
Pink-rimmed watery eyes bleed tears of forgotten passions,
whilst lacklustre emphatic sympathies deluge my unseasoned psyche
devoid of benevolent intent, diseased by loss.
Gleaning shattered remnants of beatitude from my elapsed precedent
but the jigsaw no longer fits together.
A deep black-lined sullen, morose void accumulates in the puzzle’s centre.
Beckoning, sneering, urging, compelling me to commit the final act
Desperation overlaps reason, powerlessly blinding sense.
The gaze of one million pairs of sightless eyes torches my core.
Stiletto blade reasoning. Slit wrist theory.
Down the road, not across the street.
Cavernous forearm flesh wounds yawn sickeningly wide.
Pain fades as coldness blankets my sallow cadaver.
Coroners report protocol.
Generic depressed teenage suicide #1.
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Oh sure, I wish cancer on Blank and I'm public enemy number one but when someone else wishes it upon another he gets backing *mumbles incoherently and walks of cursing under my breath* ANYWAY, yeh, interesting poem. I still want to say "Dude you try too hard" but I'm sure it'll be appreciated by some people. Just not me.
the, snail v3.451 wrote:
> 2 long m8
Yes, because 18 lines is something of a mammoth reading...
> 2 long m8
Yes, because 18 lines is something of a mammoth reading...
Hedfix wrote:
> Probably, I have to survive the 20's first and I guess the 30's are
> quite dependent on what you do during the 20's. :)
*****
Well, I was aware of my declining physical abilities during my 20's so I partied. A lot. And did drugs. A lot. And went abroad. A lot.
The only thing I didn't do a lot of was have sex. At least, not with anyone else ...
> Probably, I have to survive the 20's first and I guess the 30's are
> quite dependent on what you do during the 20's. :)
*****
Well, I was aware of my declining physical abilities during my 20's so I partied. A lot. And did drugs. A lot. And went abroad. A lot.
The only thing I didn't do a lot of was have sex. At least, not with anyone else ...
thats cliché my elderly friend.
Avoid the cliche young Padawan. ;P
My liver is f**ked in my 30's then!
Timmargh wrote:
> The 30's are way better.
Probably, I have to survive the 20's first and I guess the 30's are quite dependent on what you do during the 20's. :)
> The 30's are way better.
Probably, I have to survive the 20's first and I guess the 30's are quite dependent on what you do during the 20's. :)
cookie monster wrote:
> Paradox: wrote:
> I hope you get cancer you small minded critical little spastic.
>
> Hmmm, its not often i like to see this sort of tone, but in this case
> i agree.
I dislike being malicious towards people but this guy got me excessively riled up; especially on the issue of suicide which is something of a touchy subject with me.
> Paradox: wrote:
> I hope you get cancer you small minded critical little spastic.
>
> Hmmm, its not often i like to see this sort of tone, but in this case
> i agree.
I dislike being malicious towards people but this guy got me excessively riled up; especially on the issue of suicide which is something of a touchy subject with me.
I'm a 'hater'.
Fear me.
Fear me.
I predicted it would be a marmite sort of poem, either you'd enjoy the extensive wordage, or hate it. I felt that the 'wordage' made it difficult to read but I wanted to flaunt some big words to show Black Glove that he isnt the only one who can use them. Thanks for the honest feedback from you "haters".
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