PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

left hoping for something to change
in the depths of my soul i cry
for the remains of my life
shredded tatters of a sharp little bastard
i see the hope in your eyes for me
and perhaps some glimmer of change
to be understood
for i am just a fool with cotton in his mouth
lying in wait at the pool
as i weep for broken pots
i sleep with this thought, i must remain
and you are something beautiful
but i am refuse

sharp claws ripped my chest apart
and in the perversions of my mind i loved it
for often in my crux of pleasurably painful mistrust
i cry, hurt me again --- for i am accustomed to the shame
there is nothing more than a rope for me
i fight it, and sometimes i see
the truth of adversity