Stripped down to the bones,
flesh to flesh felt to dust.
Both palms across my holy, hiding, covering from the world that I fought so hard to look.
To the top of my lungs I scream;
take it back,
take it back.
Greeted with laughter and pointed fingers, I gave in.
The thought of acceptance finally crossed the checkered line.
A guess this is the life.
The dream that was fought for, climbing the hills of degeneracy,
to finally reach so close to the sky and touch one of the many stars that illuminated over me. And now,,, what can I say,
I guess this is it.
_Shawnavan Earle
YOU ARE READING
TALES OF A CONFUSED MIND
PoetryThis book has been years in the making. It contains a cluster of poems, not inane sequence or storytelling form but rather all falling under a similar theme. Some of poems are a bit personal to me but most of them are character based.I tend to imagi...
