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END OF ME
Folder:
dark/grey area poems In this pitiless existance called life,
I've faced almost nothing but strife,
My happiness long denied,
So in no one shall I confide.
My well of tears long drained,
Mind now scarred and stained,
I started ignored and abused,
But now am alone and used.
My life matters not to me,
More misery is all I forsee,
Overlooked by all around,
Sanity on Shakey ground,
I know not when or where,
I shall though make a swear,
By my hand it all shall end,
With my life I can't contend.
Soon to be gone,
Taken like a pawn,
My memory fading,
Body decaying.
Imamu Imiri Baraka Wrote
a book of poetry entitle: Preface To A Twenty Volume Suicide Note. This poem made me think of that as you obviously intend to live and be a poet like him. Nuff said. - allets -
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