Poetry Project # 24
Did you ever feel that hate inside?
That creeps up from your deepest cries?
You try to crawl to a hole to hide
But all you find is a place to die.
So you curl into a ball
And cry your soul to sleep and rest
You try to stop and make the call
But find yourself as the guest.
The tears are streaming to meet the ground
The sobs are trying to bury the madness
The silence is hunted– nowhere to be found
All that’s left is this maddening sadness.
Feeling used you scream to the Gods
To set you free from this tortuous Hell
They stab at you with sharpened rods
And call you names– you’ve built your own cell.
March 2001 (age 17)
Advertisements
