I've been bruised by my knowledge
The truth I know haunts me
I wish I didn't know too much
But without this wisdom I don't know what I'll be
I often cry quietly in the corner
I should have found this way sooner
My outlet for the pain and the past trauma
This is the only way to heal quicker
Now when it gets a little too much,
I take a deep breath, and grab my Bic pen, and write these vague words hoping they make sense
And in my weakness,when I am guilted for the mean words that I once said.
I say a short prayer between my pale palms and then I recess into my thin bed
So pour me a big glass of your best wine from the fresh vines of the old times.
And I will sit there,eyes full of despair as I lay bare all my thoughts clear.
Watch me sip slow, my desire pot broke and luck lost so,
I try to lay low and smoke the peace pipe under the beach palms
I am not sorry, I only worry
That these words I write may not yield understanding to you
That you may refuse to see the truth in the lies
I carry this message to you, I have been sent
Not by myself but my thoughts
Shoot not the messenger.
YOU ARE READING
Debris:A Collection Of Poems
PoetryA collection of poems... A broken analogy A forgotten story A beautiful plot At last, A terrible resolution,to form stanzas worth laughing,screaming,crying,and smiling for. Highest ranking #1 under analogy #1 under poetry contests #1 under wordplay...
