(12.20.20)
I am suffering
From a terminal illness
Though invisible
To a passerby
It is there
Always there, lurking
Inside of me
Tainting my thoughts
Nibbling at my soul
Destroying me
From the inside
Out
The curse of
My own mind
Programmed to fight
Against itself
Flawed creation
One that is irreplaceable
Cannot throw it out
Or order new parts
Must stay
With the defection
So, I keep on
With my
Terminal
Illness
YOU ARE READING
Words of the Soul
PoesíaRandom poetry I've written. Thanks to @FZhang for the awesome cover (again!) Most impressive tag: #78 in Thinking
