Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
The depths of my depravity sink My cruel and careless mind is aligned With eyes affixed on all I've solely lost: I dance with my scapegoating ghosts Yearning to turn the page: My hands are cut off by Hammurabi-- To keep from gouging Oedipus' eyes: I am written out of the story Ambition does not lust after me I am forgotten in Dante's Inferno My hands have denied any involvement-- They cite my brain for a lack-of-character(s) Volition is cemented in the mire of Regret Yet, She still screams to me: "'Out damn'd spot! Out, I say!'" So, we bury my tell-tale heart under the floor...
0
Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 6:00 AM UTC
Bedtime Story
The depths of my depravity sink My cruel and careless mind is aligned With eyes affixed on all I've solely lost: I dance with my scapegoating ghosts Yearning to turn the page: My hands are cut off by Hammurabi-- To keep from gouging Oedipus' eyes: I am written out of the story Ambition does not lust after me I am forgotten in Dante's Inferno My hands have denied any involvement-- They cite my brain for a lack-of-character(s) Volition is cemented in the mire of Regret Yet, She still screams to me: "'Out damn'd spot! Out, I say!'" So, we bury my tell-tale heart under the floor...
I mix several historical references with historical literature, spanning around 3,500 years, with my modern-day interpretation of my own mind.
adam-kinsley
Written by
37/M/Mesa, AZ
Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 6:00 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem