deepundergroundpoetry.com
Psychic Prison
A psychic prison,.
Walled by war cries,.
Of lost language,.
Devilishly I decode,
Your illogic,
With a garbled croak,
I cant stand being coloured by your hateful hue,
Grey like the clouds of a storm brewing,
No silver lining,
Only crimson coated,
Painfully penned falsehoods,
Enveloped by an evil emotion,
For I was but a mere drop in the ocean,
Lost sense of sickening selflessness,
Forever drowning in the tide,
A whimpering wordsmith,
Clutching my lost narrative,
Haemoraged by the hallow hope,
You would look my way,
But your love was taken away,
Cruelly,
I played the victim dutifully,
Using me for your own selfish needs,
Walled by war cries,.
Of lost language,.
Devilishly I decode,
Your illogic,
With a garbled croak,
I cant stand being coloured by your hateful hue,
Grey like the clouds of a storm brewing,
No silver lining,
Only crimson coated,
Painfully penned falsehoods,
Enveloped by an evil emotion,
For I was but a mere drop in the ocean,
Lost sense of sickening selflessness,
Forever drowning in the tide,
A whimpering wordsmith,
Clutching my lost narrative,
Haemoraged by the hallow hope,
You would look my way,
But your love was taken away,
Cruelly,
I played the victim dutifully,
Using me for your own selfish needs,
Published 28th May 2019
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28th May 2019 2:54pm
Loved your poem.
All our hearts come equipped with an odometer that tracks usage. Though, like an engine, it keeps chugging away. But the milage takes its toll. This is especially true when the driver at the wheel drives without concern.
Be careful of who you give the keys to your heart too. Sooner or later your heart, like an engine, will eventually pop a piston.
All our hearts come equipped with an odometer that tracks usage. Though, like an engine, it keeps chugging away. But the milage takes its toll. This is especially true when the driver at the wheel drives without concern.
Be careful of who you give the keys to your heart too. Sooner or later your heart, like an engine, will eventually pop a piston.
