This life is a torture,
A torment from the damned,
It goes by quikly, then slower,
Individual grains of sand,
Pass through the gap,
Past and future alike,
The present,
it does not put up a fight,
When the past is unthinkable-
your future torn,
You regret the very day you were born,
Curse this life, along with the next,
Fix an innocent-give them a hex,
Shove blame to others,
The innumerable covers,
Push them down-
til you cant hear the sound,
of common sense, of happiness,
Life, take it, compare it to chess,
Who will you take next??
~~nike//statch
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statchfilth621
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User Comments: [1] [add]
User Comments: [1] [add]
Community Member
Also, I couldn't help but post a poem in response to your poem, it is more of an adage than a poem actually:
If wishes were horses, beggars would ride
If turnips were swords, I'd wear one by my side
If "IF"'s and "AND"'s were pots and pans, there'd be no need for tinker's hands.
I really like your poetry, your emotions and feelings come out in technicolor.