THE THINGS I DO TO MYSELF

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  • Passion

    THE THINGS I DO TO MYSELF

    Courage seems to evade me
    as I lull in a the deep sleep
    from love's beckoning call.

    My premeditation's seems
    to deceive me as I set myself
    up for an irreversible fall.

    I lose my sense of who I am
    like a peddler who exists in lack
    being born of noble birth.

    So I drown in a sea of self-pity
    and feel I have lost touch with
    the identity of my selfworth.


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    Prettypoetcindy commented on THE THINGS I DO TO MYSELF

    09-21-2009

    I love this poem, its very soulful. Prettypoetcindy
    Reply to Comment

    Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

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    homelesspoet’s Poems (4)

    Title Comments Submitted
    Title Comments Submitted
    My Place of Sojourn 2 05/19/2009
    THE THINGS I DO TO MYSELF 1 05/19/2009
    I was as lonely blue evening ocean tides 1 05/14/2009
    the weatherman 2 05/14/2009
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