or sign in with e-mail
Don't have an account? Register Here!
by Dacey Flame Mar 18, 2008
Life, society /
meaning of life
Give me a subject I can sink my teeth into.
The fresh, juicy, pulp of Fate.
What am I to do with myself?
Lost souls, hollow eyed zombies wander,
Till the downpour begins, pieces of flesh.
Landing surreptitiously upon my face.
Who am I?
Unturned, squinty, my grey-green eyes.
Laced with something inappropriate.
What am I supposed to do?
Why am I here?
Downward are my blocky, chubby toes.
Upward find my naked state of being.
I am exposed and pointless.
I am alone. I am alone.
And I wander.
by Michael D Nalley
I really like your style
by Ed or Ian Henderson
Beautiful flow to it. Very delicate but rousing words.
This poem really makes me think...i like it