PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

right now all I have is two cents and two cigarettes

to my name

maybe in my state of euphoric poorness I'm looking for

a simple form of fame

in a tooth and nail attempt to locate what could

possibly become forever lost

I mentally push myself to the point of total inner

obsorption

my resources I repeatedly exhaust

its not exactly self loathing I secretly foster and try

to purposely conceal

yet every time I endeavor to close off the gaps to my

inner sickness its my faults and fate I seem to seal

I find my bouts of extreme fantastic fright and

insecurity

vaguely unreal

in my attempt to save my sadly searching self I make a complete mock

of the situation and make my innocence

out to be the heal

as I descend into what can only be described as

the lighter side of my own personal hell

I see the imprints of all my foolish attempts

where I previously fell

in my gifted stupidity I don't recognize my repetitive

blunders until its too late for what they really are

thoughtless acts of droll desperation that in their

ignorant redundancy only compound the problem and ugly

even more the initial scar

so I broodingly sit and curse myself for all the selfish things

I have at this mad moment done

and thank sweet JESUS himself for making me too cowardly

to even bring myself to hold a loaded gun

I can't cry for myself as easily as I can for others

for I am almost immune now to my sorrow within

I can relate to many for I know where they are coming

from because I can say that as well at one time

or another I too have been ninety-eight and a half

percent of my scars you will not find on the surface

of my skin

to see true beauty or evil

once must look beyond the brilliance of an easily

offered grin............

(written Sept 23,1991 am)