Bright lights glaring
At me, they prod, they poke,
Provoking all my senses.
I taste the sweet yet salty
And slightly metallic
Drug they use.
There is a sudden
Epiphany of sorts:
We only realise our mistakes
When we feel pain
With every prod, poke
I remember
Everything wrong, and
Everything right.
I turned a deaf ear to everything.
YOU ARE READING
From the bottom of my heart
Thơ camy homemade poetry #94 in poetry on 17 Dec 2015, 10am #33 in poetry on 31 Dec 2015, 12.36pm #12 in poetry on 17 Jan 2016, 11.58pm All rights reserved © Cover designed by @dcrktimes
