... Click ...
Its not me, not yet
My time hasent folded
But I wish it has
So I pass the torch...
... click ...
Another life spared,
One more empty channel
To let the pain sizzle from my eyes
The torch is mine
... Click ...
Silence empties the air
And death holds her tongue.
Its only a matter of time,
So the torch of time proceeds
... Click ...
Nothing again, just puffs of air
A twinkling of dust off the trigger
But still the soft grasp of love
Slips the barrel of truth
But the torch moves on
... click bang...
The ink spills from my brain
And there is nothing left to write
YOU ARE READING
The Neo-Bipolar
PoésieIm actually terrified to share this stuff with you all. I struggle with a lot of demons and really just need the support and superficial attention that I lack. This is continued poetry from bipolar poems, just a new me, some newer thoughts, feelings...
