Content Warning : Do you want to continue?
This poem contains content which some readers may find disturbing.
It is unsuitable for children or anyone who is easily offended.
YES
I am over 18 years old, I have been warned and I still want to read this poem.
I am over 18 years old, I have been warned and I still want to read this poem.
NO
I don't want to read this type of content, take me back to the previous page.
I don't want to read this type of content, take me back to the previous page.
deepundergroundpoetry.com
"Darkest Me."
I hate the fucking sun, (it's not
conducive to my darkened
mentality),
Wish the clouds and rain would
come and cover and wash it
away, (and yes, even at night, I
wear my shades),
Ironic it is, the place where I live...
In a location with an abundance
of sun and sparse rainfall
I'd feel more accustomed to rain
and superfluous shade
But I guess this is my own private
hell on earth till I can remove
myself from this curse
A Creeping Creature of the night,
I've become; that's why I work
the night shift till 2 and then drink
till 7 and go to bed till 1in the
afternoon
The more I give into this, the more
I have to fake that this isn't who
I am, (not to others but, to myself),
The more lines that I allow myself
to not resist, the more lines that
on my face, appear engraving their
pre-eminence...
And thereby, give me away
This is my daily bread; this is
becoming the sustenance whereby
I am fed
conducive to my darkened
mentality),
Wish the clouds and rain would
come and cover and wash it
away, (and yes, even at night, I
wear my shades),
Ironic it is, the place where I live...
In a location with an abundance
of sun and sparse rainfall
I'd feel more accustomed to rain
and superfluous shade
But I guess this is my own private
hell on earth till I can remove
myself from this curse
A Creeping Creature of the night,
I've become; that's why I work
the night shift till 2 and then drink
till 7 and go to bed till 1in the
afternoon
The more I give into this, the more
I have to fake that this isn't who
I am, (not to others but, to myself),
The more lines that I allow myself
to not resist, the more lines that
on my face, appear engraving their
pre-eminence...
And thereby, give me away
This is my daily bread; this is
becoming the sustenance whereby
I am fed
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 4
reading list entries 0
comments 7
reads 782
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.