Quote of the 'Week'

"Men will always be mad, and those who think they can cure them are the maddest of all."
Voltaire
Discovering that someone has commented on one of my blogs is such a joyous feeling. Hint, bloody hint!

Sunday 26 September 2010

Look, I never lay claim to amazing poetic prowess, okay?

 If you're reading this on Facebook as a note, please read it on the blog. I've played around with word sizes and everything, and only on my blog will you be able to see it.


He sits beneath his worries
And lingers, ever lingers
And he drums his bony fingers
On the crooked coffee table
As the hours become the days
And the days become the weeks
He seeks, within his clouded mind
A way to solve his problem mind
And he wishes he could find
Some sort of remedy to what he calls
His 'troubles'.

He's read the latest books
And he knows the terms within
Like they'd been written down by him
But not a single complex word
Can put out the raging fire
And as his eyes turn scarlet red
And his face a chalky white
To spite the darkness of his eyes
There is a war behind his eyes
A civil war between his mind
For to acquire an end to what
He tends to call
His 'troubles'.

Piss off, you grumpy killjoy!
You're ruining my fun!
You're self-deluded moanings
Mean nought to anyone!
But yet you seek to make DAMN SURE
That your debilitating issues
MEAN MORE
TO THE REST OF MY SUBCONSCIOUS
THAN ALL THE HAPPY THINGS
I HAVE THOUGHT, OR BROUGHT TO THE WORLD
OR WITNESS, HAVE PREVIOUSLY WITNESSED
AND EXPECT TO WITNESS
PUT TO-fucking-GETHER!

He gets angry at his 'troubles' -
When he is, he's almost able
To do away with all the worries
But he lingers, ever lingers
As he sits beneath his worries
And he drums his bony fingers
On the crooked coffee table.

No comments:

I write like
Cory Doctorow

I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!