poetry critical

online poetry workshop


Again, my brain is tickled by my mind
and it's not bright enough outside
for me to try to hide behind
the sunlight's shine and squinted eyes.
I thought that I would be alright
as long as I stand strong and fight..
But now I'm trying to escape the metaphysical plight
of realizing I'm the one that started this fight
'cause to fight now feels more like I'm killing myself,
and feel free to tell me that I'm going to hell,
but I can't understand why "the man" would plan,
these complex patterns on palms of hands
to initially seem much more confusing
than the thought processes we're all using
our entire lives to consider everything;
to read; to breath; to learn how to sing.
And within this process, however convoluted,
even each idea of "God" is included.
Our bodies may be forever limited
by the physical world they exist within
but each mind's an eternal limerick
in the universe's cosmic poetry book.

25 Sep 11

Rated 10 (8) by 1 users.
Active (1):
Inactive (0): 8

(define the words in this poem)

Add A Comment:
Enter the following text to post as unknown: captcha


Well done.
 — likeavirus

Thanks! And I just write stuff and I'm not familiar with any poets in detail. I just have fun, so maybe that's all it is ;)
 — unknown

Recent Best (expand)