PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Was it meant to turn for the worse

An intended infliction, an intensive hurt

That boggles the barricades inside of the mind

That goggles the glass we now use for our eyes

Needless protection in a needless disguise



Gray matter sphere fused tight inside

This self-grown armor

This self-grown pride

Used on occasion from time to find

An escape from the swell of on staring eyes

So the thoughts like cinder would fall from the sky



Stricken immobile the future is dim

Sink like a stone, fall like a grin

That is endless in it’s altitudinal descent

That's left speechless by it’s own content

Conscious thought is a conscious sin



Gray matter sphere fused tight inside

This self-grown armor

This self-grown pride

Used on occasion from time to find

An excape from the swell of on staring eyes

So the thoughts like cinder would fall from the sky



This foreign-grown, self-contained contusion

A cyst of abnormal proportion

Benign ball with malignant consequence



Grey matter sphere fused tight inside

This self-grown armor

This self-grown pride