Jaded

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  • Anger

    Jaded
    Turn around and smell what you feel, it's the lonely..

    See what you have created, it's the hardened..

    This is your prison, your heart..

    The windows to your soul, your eyes..

    The limbs of lust, your empty arms..

    The image of shallow, it's you..

    What you long for is gone, your soul..

    It's the mirror of character, you...

    Dennis Lee Martin
    Copyright ©2007 Dennis Lee Martin

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    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.

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