Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2014
Confessions on the tip of my tongue
Words of truth, dismissed and swallowed
To sit in my stomach, and rotten my core
Paralyzed, I'm left to lie in my cell
Sickened and bloated by my own deceit
I ponder the cause and effect of this commodious defect
This isn't about affection
It's about the reflection
Venomous ardency
I am a prisoner of myself
Leon  Lapin
Written by
Leon Lapin  Indianapolis
(Indianapolis)   
506
   r
Please log in to view and add comments on poems