DEPRESSIVE ACCURACY

2 Comments

DEPRESSIVE ACCURACY

Depressive Accuracy

Hopelessly
Soundlessly
Ceaselessly
Tragic
Under circumstances obtained.
A fully cherished domain.
Passionately sick, pending searched blame.
Steadily caressing my psychotic pain until tamed.
The desire for death still bleaching the surface.
Unfelt splatters of life, leaking in chains.
Black, as it’s colorless, a reality is shamed.
A fire in heaven as it whispers my name.
A suction unmarked with pleas fortuned.
Apologies withdrew to whom I’ve contained.
Still questions unanswered, my peaks clomped once again.
A windy fall as I jump to a gain.
Still feathered
Still detestable
Still one in many
Still depressive accuracy!

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bobzoom commented on DEPRESSIVE ACCURACY

01-15-2009

Well penned poem loved it

PhantomPoet commented on DEPRESSIVE ACCURACY

11-17-2008

This poem is beautifully tragic and flows so well! Wonderful job!

A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

BlackCloud’s Poems (8)

Title Comments
Title Comments
Fildelity Beyond Magical Explosions 0
Moment 0
What Am I? 0
Just Me... 0
The Human Mind 1
BEAUTY IN ALL 0
EYES... 2
DEPRESSIVE ACCURACY 2