Frustration has seized me once again
So I lend a hand to my pen
that it may tell me what I'm feeling,
concealing ... revealing?
It's not a question of sanity
that I answered long ago
when I threw my soul to the demons
that I might escape their gnashing teeth
Now I stand pointless
a compass with no needle
just a bunch of wrong directions
It's not what I asked for
It's what was given me while I wasn't looking
but I'm looking now and I don't like what I see
in the mirror of my own obscurity
a cracked group of shards that all stare back at me
am I seeking myself in this well of self loathing?
or voting for death ... yet open too debate
am I too late for the party?
Tags: dark poetry
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