Tainted Pure

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Tags:
  • Life
    • ,
  • Passage

    Poem Commentary

    Some old stuff I wrote and recorded

    Tainted Pure

     The Words of the Pure
    So Often Are Unheard
    And Go on Till They Burn
    So Deep that They Turn
    To Thoughts Disturbed
    And To Make Things Worse
    Aint no Cure For the Tainted
    So When the Pain Hits
    He's Consumed With
    Feeling Unsure He'll Ever Make it

    So Life He Takes it
    For Granted and He Wastes it
    Creating for Himself
    A Fate Less Than Shameless
    Pathing Way for A Day
    He May Fade Away Nameless

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    To have great poets there must be great audiences too.

    Walt Whitman, American Poet (1819-1892)

    Insite’s Poems (8)

    Title Comments Submitted
    Title Comments Submitted
    DISPLACEMENT 1 04/25/2014
    Dire is the Need 0 09/13/2010
    Tainted Pure 0 09/13/2010
    Hope for Bliss 1 07/05/2009
    Beauty Scars 2 06/23/2009
    Oppressive Lust 1 06/23/2009
    displacement 1 06/23/2009
    Total Eclipse 3 06/23/2009
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