Let it hurt,
Why can't you concentrate?
What are you,
A bloody coelenterate?
Let it bleed,
Where has your focus gone?
Why are you squirming?
Is this why you were born?
Let it ache,
Why don't you do the task at hand?
Why should you be treated specially
If the problem is in your glands?
Let it break,
Better if it goes numb.
At least then, in elevated pain,
Perhaps you'll not crumb.
Let it rot,
Until you don't finish all the work.
Let it rot,
For all its worth.
Let it leak,
But don't shout.
Don't let others know,
Keep shut your mouth.
Let it flow,
You deserve the penalty.
You deserve the anguish,
You don't deserve to be free.
Let it burn,
Why extinguish your passion then?
Go on, move forth,
Forget what has been.
Just an excuse, it is,
It was you not able to perform well,
Just an excuse your body spewed,
Anyone can tell.
Let it hurt.
What are you, a coelenterate?
Bear the pain,
Concentrate.
YOU ARE READING
Hiraeth.
Poetry"But again, I'm warning you, All I am is a pathetic little beast. I'm scarred inside very deep, Scarred because of words for eternity. If you have the courage to take a peek, Then come and join the fraterni...
