Black Poetry : The death of my soul

blakverb

Well-Known Member
REGISTERED MEMBER
Mar 19, 2001
2,627
33
My Soul stands there
before the angry crowd
hands tied behind it's back
waiting for the
lever to be
p
u
l
l
e
d
.....I can only stand amongst
the hatemongers and remain
silent and ride on the tear
that ran down the face
of what kept me
"full"

my thoughts scream
and throw broken
appendages of the present
at my Soul and some spit
in it's face....

I stand in the crowd
and after shaking / full of
fear / yell....

"pull the **** lever!"

!
!
!
!
!
!
!

my Soul hung there
and flowers began to surface
from every orifice of it's
nude body

It hung post-mortem
smiling as if to thank me for
saving myself.

(c)2001 blakverb

*I'm back ya'll. I need my room, I need to rest, my Soul is tired and home is where it needs to be.
 

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