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The Nazi Within
Have you ever met
The Nazi within you?
It lives in us all,
It carries his big book,
Of right and wrong,
Singing the words,
Condemnation is its song.
And a cute little mustache,
All trimmed and so neat,
I accept that it's there,
But I don't kiss its feet.
It has not a gender
Or place to be put,
It just lays in the pit of us all,
Like soot.
Like a pile of ashes,
N'er to be reborn,
Its in love with itself,
And enjoys only scorn.
It doesn' t smell sweet.
.....
I try and avoid him, the
I try and avoid him, the nazi within, but maybe thats what he wants most?
What he wants is probably not
What he wants is probably not important then...lol. Acknowledgement doesn't necessitate want. Thanks for reading!!
...
...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."
"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "
A great read
This is not only a great read but a powerful idea that we all have such hatred as well as self worship inside however we choose not to accept it. We choose to be better. I love how the poem flows it makes for an easy read but with very strong images relating to people and their nature. Love it!
Thank you, Emma. One of the
Thank you, Emma. One of the more difficult realities to accept about being human.
...-peace-
...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."
"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "
Mah big vacuum kleener iz on its way tah suck out soot
Mah big vacuum kleener iz on its way tah suck out soot.Missun Possibel??? LMBAO .. Sorry fur daggling yaz profound weighty post. Az ya knowz me iz habbinn poizon runnin in mah blud. Very happy writing ahead.
©bishu
Oh good. Can always enjoy an
Oh good. Can always enjoy an exchange of soot. Thing is...it is eternal and changes little. Only hope is to accept it exists. But you keep trying because it makes you who you are, popeye~poisonshu~hoover~chimney sweep~
word seeker.
;-) thx bishu for gracing my pages.
....
...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."
"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "