With bile splattered journals in hand
they spoke with arrhythmia
palpitating misery in their poetry.
Now they tear the roots out of their skin as
their left ears are numb to validity.
Logic is a mere fallacy as they are
emitting blood soaked words.
And the populace heeds no warning,
blinded behind a microphone,
they are deaf to their own soliloquy.
Jun 16, 2016
Jun 16, 2016 at 4:36 PM UTC
With bile splattered journals in hand
they spoke with arrhythmia
palpitating misery in their poetry.
Now they tear the roots out of their skin as
their left ears are numb to validity.
Logic is a mere fallacy as they are
emitting blood soaked words.
And the populace heeds no warning,
blinded behind a microphone,
they are deaf to their own soliloquy.
Request permission to use this poem