#bedridden
Rigid spine,
a creeping spider shuffling
through
the mental aisles.
Sight aloft,
aghast, a ceiling.
Cast away in one’s own chamber.
Preacher’s preaches
drown in water, leagues
below my iron
bedstead.
Nov 14, 2014
Nov 14, 2014 at 11:46 PM UTC
On a bed in fair mid-May,
Away from school, work, and play,
Lie a young boy devoid of joy,
Trying to break away.
It wrestled, fought, and struggled,
But fatal aims redoubled,
His iron will held them stock-still,
Neither could break away.
Motions were slow and fleeting,
Instinct and Will competing,
To end two pains in different veins,
Crumble and break away.
Strangling a blind reflection,
White-knuckling throats mid-section,
With fratricide, a part had died,
What's left to break away.
Downtown a young man stood tall,
Behind eyes, perturbing pall,
Lie a young boy devoid of joy,
Trying to break away.
Sep 29, 2021
Sep 29, 2021 at 5:42 AM UTC