|
Menu
|
|
|
Social
|
|
|
|
The Truth Hurts
Contributed by
outdoorsman
on
Friday, 12th March 2004 @ 03:31:35 AM in AEST
Topic:
Grief
|
stagnant memories fester in the corners of my mind.
The build up doth cause corruption for time breaks down immunities.
I am left bleeding thoughts to a coffin that once held Sanity,
(my close friend that was smote in a cerebral battle)
and clinging to a faceless God who hears my every muttering?
These roses that wither away are the perfect metaphor to life.
On this dying day, praise comes so cheap, but true personality is pushed aside for a moment.
What do you do when the truth hurts?
It's like fighting a raging fire that strangles away all oxygen.
A soul is screaming to me, pleading for understanding.
If death is not the final adventure, please write a new proverb on my heart.
If it were so, my cheeks could feel the sun once again.
Until that day, I will exist incessantly with nothing to debate me but for my mind.
Copyright ©
outdoorsman
... [
2004-03-12 03:31:35] (Date/Time posted on
site)
Advertisments:
|
|
|
|
|
Sorry, comments are no longer allowed for anonymous, please register for a free membership to access this feature and more
|
|
All comments are owned by the poster. Your Poetry
Dot Com is not responsible for the content of any
comment. That said, if you find an offensive comment, please
contact via the FeedBack Form with details, including poem title
etc.
|
|
|
|