Dark side of the shroom

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  • stonie
  • got somethi ngdeep on my mind but too busy at work to manifest it

Poem Commentary

i personally would say this is more a story than anything but it wouldn't have existed without strong feelings backed behind it

Dark side of the shroom

Tention rising, looking back at obsticals past.


colors fade, nothing good ever seems to last.


stuck in this viod of darkness, these beings watch over and laugh.


what did i do, i don't deserve this state of personification degradation.


something is there. walking slow, i watch as i am drawn near.


the void streches on further than ones deepest fears.


the plateu at the highest reaches is where i'm summoned,
they say they own me yet i still fight this omen.


than a glimmer, the spark of salvation.


salvation in the center of the darkest of places.


i know i am ment to be here, yet now i know why.


as i reach closer to the light the darkest pulles me in.


with shear will and might of steel i make it through.


As i take i see the being, the being that brought me to this dreaded place.


standing tall i hold my ground, and then the sounds, the sounds.


it's like regurgitated mursmurs and and gargled giberish.


Yet i understand it all, it's an invitation, for once i am accepted.


acceptance in a place like this would seem like a rare thing.


never once have i felt like i belonged,
then again, i shake off this feeling and begin to run.


this is not where i belong, with this group i will not become one.


all my life, everyone treated me like i'm shit.


so am i just surposed to give up and be a part of it.


fuck all that i know whom i am, and as i run and run i know not where i am.


these beings draw ever near, closer and closer, they won't leave me in the clear.


If i won't join them they will comsume me, i know this all too well.


their notions of evil were made too clear.


And as soon as i think they have me all goes white, as i come too i am at my front door step yet don't know why. wasn't i at my friends place at the dead of the night, awww, fuck it all, just go to bed and turn out the light.

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Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.

Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

stonie’s Poems (29)

Title Comments
Title Comments
as the melting pot thickens 0
Try and break my sanity will you, please? 0
time, the clevor deceptor 0
look around 0
paganianity 0
One sided eyes 0
Used and Abused, i can be your muse 0
uninhibited 0
return of the shoutcast 0
my becomming 0
Goodbye old friend 0
every corner 0
you order'd her to court?!?!?!?! 0
mind crush 1
in one year 1
triple shot regresso 0
voyeurs in the back 0
bad things happen to good people 0
days amost the haze 0
too many emos 0
slowly how the river rolls 0
cars, bars, and mar 0
not i 0
Dark side of the shroom 0
all in time 0
the strangest notion of passion 0
i am dead 0
to a less known friend 0
desire frier 0