F*cked Up

1 Comments

Tags:
  • Other

    F*cked Up

    Troubled?

    Why yes,

    I am.

    The bitter taste of human evolution,

    stabs me with convulsive anxiety.

    The trap they set for my soul --

    readied to cower like a cornered fox.

    Each day is a new wound.

    Each day is more of my martyred blood.



    Disturbed?

    Why yes,

    I am.

    Can't you feel it?

    The silence?

    The noise?

    The stir in the air?

    I can hear the banshee mourning for my murdered consience.

    Oh Thoth,

    do you have any more parlor tricks to quicken me once more?



    F*cked up?

    Aren't we all?



    By: Roy Quebedeaux

    Poem Comments

    (1)

    Please login or register

    You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
    leave comments/feedback and rate this poem.

    Login or Register

    AleaPendragon commented on F*cked Up

    05-18-2009

    Great poem. The angst is palpable and your ending is pure sin.

    Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    royq’s Poems (20)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    Trippin' 2
    The Story of Us 2
    The Elements of My Heart 0
    Wake Up 1
    Kissing You 0
    Crazy 0
    Never Asked 1
    I Was Afraid 0
    House of Mirrors 1
    Sh*t Outta Luck 4
    Twisted 0
    Garden of the Gods -3
    Don't Fear The Reaper 0
    No One Here 0
    F*cked Up 1
    Dreams 0
    roy. 0
    ? 0
    .45 0
    Dear Dad. . . . 2