Free verse № 100988
forwards
Railing against time as objective reality,
still I go only forwards,
no matter the drugs,
meditation,
or prayers.
Before me is tears, behind me is bland,
the only response that I feel
is 'and?'.
And what is this life, this hell self-inflicted,
this avoidance of pain
the greater
pain?
And where is the rainbow of all these tomorrows
that glistens in tears I hold in,
where is the whisper
that unfurls my hope,
so tightly
curled
and twisted?
Is it forwards?
22 comments
this greatening
restricted.
S-4 stop,period, Drop the solo line.
These are my suggestions. Nice to see you in the 'hood.
we always could both.
I'm not feeling inspired as such, at the moment. If you'd like me to say I won't, so you can, I could. ish. It's your idea, after all. :)
An unusual thing from you, this. Feels pimply, I want to pick it to shreds.
In my depression I felt it had to be crap.
Feeling somewhat better, I find it very interesting crap; the stacatto-like almost-flow is nice. Or almost nice. The message--over-simplistic, if there at all. La.
You're all too kind, even the 7.
One mans trash,blah blah blah.
Thoughts not so much happen, lately.
I think I can, I think I can. :)
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