Ink
It is ink that I write with,
The pages are printed in
And is tattooed to my soul.
Yet these words I speak do anything but fill me up
Once more I am speaking with knowledge found with an old mans heart
Yet with the type of innocence a kid would have making a fool of himself.
I am empty
And the echo resonates within my bones
Lies stammer out of my mouth
My teeth cry out in anguish, but I'm not heard
My body will wither without truth
Show me a way, and give me an out to this disease.
Help me detox this state I'm in
My words endlessly echo in my head
Pumping through my blood
Up to my eyes it boils within me and i see red.
Our conversation haunts my innermost being
Don't listen to me- sometimes nothing is something.
Unbreakable, that's how I seem to come across
Strong, is only what I seem to be.
I need comfort.
Yet the only sound that sooths my senses is a monotonous heartbeat
The sound of my heart
Id rather have not spoken those words at all.
For deaf is the ears they fall on
Like snow in the jungle my presence is deemed unwanted
This shot of memory has all but overtaken my mind
Poem by J.A.D. © 2007
It is ink that I write with,
The pages are printed in
And is tattooed to my soul.
Yet these words I speak do anything but fill me up
Once more I am speaking with knowledge found with an old mans heart
Yet with the type of innocence a kid would have making a fool of himself.
I am empty
And the echo resonates within my bones
Lies stammer out of my mouth
My teeth cry out in anguish, but I'm not heard
My body will wither without truth
Show me a way, and give me an out to this disease.
Help me detox this state I'm in
My words endlessly echo in my head
Pumping through my blood
Up to my eyes it boils within me and i see red.
Our conversation haunts my innermost being
Don't listen to me- sometimes nothing is something.
Unbreakable, that's how I seem to come across
Strong, is only what I seem to be.
I need comfort.
Yet the only sound that sooths my senses is a monotonous heartbeat
The sound of my heart
Id rather have not spoken those words at all.
For deaf is the ears they fall on
Like snow in the jungle my presence is deemed unwanted
This shot of memory has all but overtaken my mind
Poem by J.A.D. © 2007
1 comment:
I still stand by what I said. You write ten times better than I do. The eyes are the windows into the soul but poetry is the song that is sings.
Speaking of souls you really did not mind my mythical rampage? It was not childish to you?
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