Lost

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  • Dark Poetry

    Lost
    I dont know where I am or where to turn, I feal a needle stabing me a thrashing burn, I see things i shoundnt see, but if I dare to speak up nobody believes me,I'm running down a hall and nobodys there all these
    lyes and horrible people its just not fair! people say theres a place that i belong, but hey not every budys right, most are rong, I feal a whack and then a slam I look around and Idont know where i am...

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    Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

    Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

    Socks’s Poems (4)

    Title Comments Submitted
    Title Comments Submitted
    Foreseen 0 05/10/2009
    Lye 0 05/10/2009
    Hurt 1 05/10/2009
    Lost 0 05/10/2009
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