PoemsBrowse PoemsSlamsFresh DropEchoes
LearnWriting TipsPoetry TermsPoets & ArtistsBooksFor Teachers
ExplorePoetry GenomePoem MapEchoesTake ActionGroups
AboutWrite a PoemDonateSign UpLog In

Sickened Am I


Sickened Am I 
As absolute on absolute relies 
On truths beyond our limits held by toothpicks in our minds 
And as steady as the literary aspects at our sides
As I surmise belief and the surveillance of my soul-
Sickened Am I 
 
Sickened Am I 
One who's fully questioned Death's design 
One who's stored self-hatred from my body and my mind 
Wishing to forget, now, each and every awful line- that makes me sickened! 
Sickened by myself 
Sickened Am I
 
Sickened Am I 
For what can possibility provide? 
That correct would be the choices of the choices of my mind 
One single time!
But it seems to me that I've already died 
And it's only now I notice corpses going with the tide
But it's not just the body, it's the soul that wrenches wide
The nature of my nature of my nature that's inside!
As I look into the mirror, as I look into my eyes!
A reflection of reflection of this creature that's a lie!
The person of my person whom there's nothing left inside!
I Am Sickened!
Sickened Am I. 
©All Rights Reserved

Something wrong with this poem?

Share

Replies are closed for this poem.

Your Poem's Voice

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (0)

No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.

Log in to leave a comment.