deepundergroundpoetry.com
PAINT ON THE CEILING
A wish made upon
Artificial light
Waiting for the rebellion
To lift up the night
Held the gun to my throat
To let fear take the wheel
And the sorrow I wrote
Dealt a horrid ordeal
Paint on the ceiling
The fire is peeling
Frozen inside me
Drugs start the healing
I've written a book
That no one has read
A tale of desire
In which everyone's dead
And under the carpet
Lie bodies I've raped
A worrisome artist
With no hope for escape
Paint on the ceiling
The fire is peeling
The nightmare is feeding
A sleep of no breathing
At the age of sixteen
Lost the will to be loved
And nothing is clean
In the pastures above
Paint on the ceiling
The fire is peeling
Frozen inside me
I am withering
Published 16th Oct 2016
| Edited 17th Oct 2016
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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The author encourages honest critique.
16th Oct 2016 11:20pm
Isn't that "Withering" word unexitant?
The "Wither" belongs to minecraft!
I do like this. Perhaps you could make one for Minecraft
The "Wither" belongs to minecraft!
I do like this. Perhaps you could make one for Minecraft
17th Oct 2016 8:36am
The artwork was a great choice. Poetry seems to fall from the paint right onto the page,an artists tale of turmoil...
