Fed as a beast.
Knowledge is its feast.
Crippled by memories.
Cured with victories.
Directed with perceptions.
Dictated by truth.
Handled with care.
Or tormented, unfair.
When the tough becomes worse.
When everything is sour.
My mind will work, work and work.
Until the work is done,
And I am safe to rest once more.
Sleeping until no longer sore.
YOU ARE READING
Dizzy to the Point of Exhaustion
PoetryPoems. I know. I am incredibly deep and see meaning in everything. Jokes. Hopefully this doesn't suck. warning: some of these poems definitely kinda suck... oops! #881 in poetry March 4th, 2017👀 #463 in poetry March 9th, 2017😮 #348 in poetry Ma...
