| » Poem: Plasticine makeshift worlds |
Plasticine makeshift worlds
written by Trapezium07:01 PM 12/16/04I am the damaged dream,
The magnificent darkness,
You're too afraid to see.
I am the blackened fire,
The pain that wont ever cease,
You're too disturbed to agree.
I am the sordid resurrection,
Of plasticine makeshift worlds,
The pain that'll never die.
I am the dead fly in your soup,
The candle burning from disarray,
The what the how and the why.
I'm the dysfunctional vocabulary,
Of lies hiding behind truth,
The overstepped boundaries, the line.
I'm the everything you hate so much,
The things you cannot bare,
The whinges, the moans, the whines.
I'm the rusty chains that keep you,
Chained to your dank cell's home,
The oil that pierces your throat.
I'm the pain and the fire that burns your eyes,
The shouts that resonate in silence,
The jeer, the sneer, the gloat. |
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This Poem has been viewed 397 times
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| » Comments / Feedback | by sarah10087 (12-16-2004 - 08:37 PM)
| contradiction, you say you will never die and then you say "I am the dead fly in your soup,"...hmm... |
by Trapezium (12-16-2004 - 08:44 PM)
| That's not a contradiction, it's an analogy. You've got a brain, use it. |
by Genocide Reaper (12-16-2004 - 09:56 PM)
| Kahno, she doesn't understand what a metaphore is. So don't worry about her ignorance. |
by KaoticKitty87 (12-16-2004 - 10:19 PM)
by blackened_rose (12-16-2004 - 10:35 PM)
| I like it. You did a good job. :)~Kath |
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