A/N: I'm experimenting with having actual stanzas and form, instead of whatever the fuck my other poetry has been. Tell me if it works or not.
Often I wonder,
Deep into jet black nights,
Not even stars escape an abyss,
And the howling moon swings low,
What life could be,
When a mind is sound,
Stable,
Safe.
What a joy it must be,
To have sweet dreams drift upon your bed,
Wiggle their way into your head,
A drifting meadow of sleep,
Or what it must be like,
To see a needle point,
And to give it not a second glance,
A thin metal stick is no harm,
And oh,
What must it be like,
To have silence.
Deadening, swallowing silence,
Where the mind eats itself whole,
And in the empty sky hangs you,
So quiet,
Nothing more than
Cold.
Sweet.
Dark.
A daytime sky and no sun.
Lords above and below,
Must bless thee with a quiet mind,
For I have never found that,
And never will I.
YOU ARE READING
Blissful Incompetence
PoetryThis will be my poem dump. All my crappy poems and shitty thoughts all compressed into one place. Aren't you just so lucky to read them? For real though, most of this will be personal-esque poems and writings and most will probably be going over so...
