deepundergroundpoetry.com
A beast
I see the look in
your eyes when you look at me, and I hope that you are wrong
True I’ve made
mistakes in my life, but now the past is dead and gone
I can’t change all
the things I regret; but I’ll at least do my best
My best to learn from
the past, from all the people I’ve upset
I can hope they will
forgive me, for whatever I may have done
Stop me from living
as the beast I have become
Not a beast that
feeds on the flesh of man, or a beast that longs to kill
But a beast that
destroys his own life, his pride, and his own will
A beast that can no
longer see any good not even within himself
A beast whose only
happiness sits bottled on his shelf
As the bottle slowly
empties, the pain slowly subsides
A drunken beast
smiles, drowning sorrows in his eyes
He packs another
bowl, pops a handful of pills
His need for numbness
has overcome his ability to feel
As he fills himself
with fallacies, the pain shrinks away
He’s done enough
internal damage, to make it through the day
This beast has no
hero; he’s not a beast that can be slain
He is his own worst
enemy, he causes his own pain
While he thinks the
bottle helps him, numbs what he feels
Deep inside he knows
the truth, that the pain is still too real
What he sees in the
past makes him dread what’s to come
So he heads down to
the closest store, to buy himself a gun
He gets back home,
bout ready to go, gun loaded and cocked
He puts the barrel in
his mouth, praying for a reason to stop
A second later his
doorbell rings, an old friend from his past
He figured he would
pay a visit, to his friend at last
He felt a need to be
there, felt something was wrong
The beast says he’s
doing great, as he puts away his bong
The friend asks how
the beast is doing, why he looked so sad
The beast sat down
and cried right then, the beast had just been had
He went out with his
friend that night, just like old friends do
And when he awoke,
the next day, his life would start anew
The beast has finally
met his match, the man is seen again
The beast is slain,
now forever, because of an old friend.
your eyes when you look at me, and I hope that you are wrong
True I’ve made
mistakes in my life, but now the past is dead and gone
I can’t change all
the things I regret; but I’ll at least do my best
My best to learn from
the past, from all the people I’ve upset
I can hope they will
forgive me, for whatever I may have done
Stop me from living
as the beast I have become
Not a beast that
feeds on the flesh of man, or a beast that longs to kill
But a beast that
destroys his own life, his pride, and his own will
A beast that can no
longer see any good not even within himself
A beast whose only
happiness sits bottled on his shelf
As the bottle slowly
empties, the pain slowly subsides
A drunken beast
smiles, drowning sorrows in his eyes
He packs another
bowl, pops a handful of pills
His need for numbness
has overcome his ability to feel
As he fills himself
with fallacies, the pain shrinks away
He’s done enough
internal damage, to make it through the day
This beast has no
hero; he’s not a beast that can be slain
He is his own worst
enemy, he causes his own pain
While he thinks the
bottle helps him, numbs what he feels
Deep inside he knows
the truth, that the pain is still too real
What he sees in the
past makes him dread what’s to come
So he heads down to
the closest store, to buy himself a gun
He gets back home,
bout ready to go, gun loaded and cocked
He puts the barrel in
his mouth, praying for a reason to stop
A second later his
doorbell rings, an old friend from his past
He figured he would
pay a visit, to his friend at last
He felt a need to be
there, felt something was wrong
The beast says he’s
doing great, as he puts away his bong
The friend asks how
the beast is doing, why he looked so sad
The beast sat down
and cried right then, the beast had just been had
He went out with his
friend that night, just like old friends do
And when he awoke,
the next day, his life would start anew
The beast has finally
met his match, the man is seen again
The beast is slain,
now forever, because of an old friend.
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