Friday, October 29, 2010

If Hell Were An Ocean

Attacking canvas 
Creating a Lord for everyone to see 
Plain white T shirts float over sweetwaters 
Education sinks into red sea
The bottom where I lay me
The top where I can’t see 
There’s no middle; I can’t be 
Trapped in homemade hell 
Feeling the effects from which I fell
Heartbroken 
No food to sell 
Lost in transition plagued by inhibition 
Fingers keep sliding 
Emotions keep burning 
Knives kept stabbing 
Silver kept shining 
Bloody ears still ring 
I can’t hear the song I sing 
Curtains never shut 
Patient strings cut
Two-faced feet don’t sit 
Conscience full of shit 


© 2010 Anthony Desmond Scott. All Rights Reserved. 

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4 comments:

Anonymous said...

Very sensory, good work!

Anonymous said...

love the title,
brilliant thoughts..
Thanks for contributing to potluck week 12.
you rock!

Anonymous said...

I like the words you used, the confidence in the flow. Knives kept stabbing, silver kept shining is the part that will stay with me. very nice!

Purvi said...

From where to quote? each and every line is sheer reality .. true real pure emotion.