That’s all there is,
nothing more than you can feel,
now,
that’s all there is.
CAN’T GET ENOUGH OF YOUR PAIN
Cancer of the mind, cancer of the soul.
Multiple beatings have taken their toll.
Early to bed, early to rise,
is more painful than I would surmise.
Bloodied and bruised by cold light of day,
a man can’t live without something to say.
Early to bed, early to rise,
keeps me from wanting to sever the ties.
Cancer of the body, cancer of the heart.
Saw all this coming, but not from the start.
Early to bed, early to rise,
leaves more time open for me to despise.
Beaten and broken at every last turn,
enough oil behind with which to burn.
Early to bed, early to rise,
overworks a man until he dies.
Added March 25, 2016
This blog was mostly retaliatory in nature. Its name was even a play on the name of the Russian’s Live Journal account (I think it was like Lies Unspoken or something). I used it as an outlet to vent and do other things, but mostly just to be annoying and self-aggrandizing with lame poetry like this. I’ll go into more detail about the birth of this blog, later on.
This poem isn’t the worst I’ve written, but it really does suck.
This was the supposed to be the final post on the blog, hence “Epilogue”, but obviously… that didn’t quite happen.
skylerbartels 