My feelings are true
They are my life's blood spring
but irrelevant.
Couplets and quatrains
or free form self indulgence
It's my time to waste
Five- seven- five lines
stacked to challenge my ego
poor pedestrian.
Here I go again
my ink is not innocent
my soul is tainted
Why do we do it?
What is there to gain from this?
What is the **** point?
I undress my self,
and Adonis, I am not!
better look away
This is what it's like
to expose myself and dare
to pretend it's art.
Jan 31, 2016
Jan 31, 2016 at 4:26 PM UTC
My feelings are true
They are my life's blood spring
but irrelevant.
Couplets and quatrains
or free form self indulgence
It's my time to waste
Five- seven- five lines
stacked to challenge my ego
poor pedestrian.
Here I go again
my ink is not innocent
my soul is tainted
Why do we do it?
What is there to gain from this?
What is the **** point?
I undress my self,
and Adonis, I am not!
better look away
This is what it's like
to expose myself and dare
to pretend it's art.
I feel the urge to apologize for this piece. I'm not quite sure why. Perhaps I feel like it's classic self indulgence on my part. Here it is though. I have to post them all as they come. It was inspired by a stranger who said, "Your feelings are irrelevant." It was a random declaration on a forum..It made me write this.
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