wound is deep....bleeds so neat....scars turn black..
mind's off track...
drunken hymns and swollen souls
tortured lives
blackened holes
crazy little fucker...cry for your mother
no longer sober
can't start over
can not ryhme or spell, and my vision's falling flat
journalize my mind with the words etched in my back
am i mad, or am i sane
not too sure, can not explain
collapsing lungs imitate a death devoured well
pain is plain...I need another door to enter Hell
racing heart my sudden friend
lend a hand once again


-- pseudo (anti@disestablishment.arianism), February 22, 2002

Answers

just to let you know this is the best poem i've ever read.

-- Steavo (Pennywise_balloon@hotmail.com), March 19, 2002.