• sosmooth51
  • is walking on a bed of nails... behind fire..infront of me death..stay? or leap away?

Poem Commentary

If you have an admiration of beauty and pain.......  then please read

I

       I walk into a black room and I see a crying ghost.

She speaks to me and says something backwards. And

as she witnesses me being perplexed she cries again

this time speaking sorrow to my death. I boil the

moonlight and sitting on pang and watching the night

bleed. I look back to see my dead shadow. AS he lays

there I enter the world of wonder. I look through a

window and see me dying ina way that wasn't meant to

be. The sun turns cold. I levitate going up to hell. I see a

face that looks familiar... Whit and pale, it was the same

ghost I seen before, but this time I see more clearer that

that ghost was me... I sit and talk to my own ghost
.

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Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

sosmooth51’s Poems (15)

Title Comments
Title Comments
WHAT NEXT? 4
The Last Sentence 1
CELL IN A BLACK SOUL 0
I yell through my eyes, my tears become my words, {part 2} not really. 1
I yell through my eyes.......be
cuase my tears become my words ......
0
WAR OF THOUGHT AND ACTION 0
The Idea of Sex, and Yours? 2
The End of the Begining 0
The Un-Morning 1
In Love With Death 1
What Am I 0
Hated Life 1
I 0
I CAN NOT FIND US 1
WHAT STRANGE NEW WORLD 0