Array ( [sid] => 184956 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => -1 [time] => 2018-03-19 01:57:02 [hometext] => [bodytext] => I took my broken pain
and laid it in a cradle;
I hid it from the world
in the dark corners
of my secluded dwelling,
caressed it tenderly,
and fed it bite sized bits
of anger and contempt,
until it blossomed
the most beautiful hatred
I have ever known.
It stretched forth vines
-gnarled and twisted-
with barbed thorns
that clung
to my every limb;
enshrouding me in a dark
and comfortable nirvana.

How I hate
how much I love
my hatred;
the only genuine gift
I can give freely. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 186 [topic] => 13 [informant] => nightwolf [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry ) Your Poetry Dot Com - -1


-1
Date: Monday, 19th March 2018 @ 01:57:02 AM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: nightwolf
I took my broken pain
and laid it in a cradle;
I hid it from the world
in the dark corners
of my secluded dwelling,
caressed it tenderly,
and fed it bite sized bits
of anger and contempt,
until it blossomed
the most beautiful hatred
I have ever known.
It stretched forth vines
-gnarled and twisted-
with barbed thorns
that clung
to my every limb;
enshrouding me in a dark
and comfortable nirvana.

How I hate
how much I love
my hatred;
the only genuine gift
I can give freely.

This poem is Copyright © nightwolf


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