sober b 4 i started

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sober b 4 i started

I sit back and begin to wonder

I fear and laugh for those so brave

This rage inside growing thunder

Anger owns me as a slave

Intoxicating, this drink I hold

With every sip I start to slip

This growing wrath burns so bold

I bite so hard to bite my lip

But then I speak as if I am told

With every slip, I take a sip

And I break this fucking mold

Then my friend you start to see

This rage I have inside of me

That tugs and pulls my sanity

Keeping me from being free

Boiling hot and lashing out

I’ll tell you now what it’s about

I hate my life, I hate to hate

I hate this hate I create

This dark passion I have inside

That I try so hard to hide

I have a thirst, I crave to kill

Up my spine it leaves a chill

All the blood I want to spill

And so bad to make it real

With this knife I hold so near

On my skin I have no fear

I see my veins they are so clear

No goodbyes to you my dear

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Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

kijealy’s Poems (48)

Title Comments
Title Comments
Rest in pieces 0
never lover 0
never lover 0
the truth to silence 1
of dust and memories 1
drop it all 1
forget about it 0
i nreally don't care 0
twisted mockery 0
wall of ice 0
black rein 0
sweet summer spells 1
knew you knew 1
consumed 0
shadows calling 3
bloody hell 2
see inside my cube.... 0
truely touched 2
wide awake 3
upset 0
twisted 1
tomorrow 0
suicide 1
sober b 4 i started 0
sob story 1
so i'm saved 2
rising up 0
poison 0
perfection doesn't exist 0
passion 0
myself 0
last time 0
a time of waiting 0
july 3rd 0
jibberish 0
inside of you 0
i lost my touch 0
ha-ha! 1
feeding demons 0
endless night 0
drivin around in my automobile 0
dreams 0
darkness 1
closer 0
chatter 1
a bedtime story 4 my sleepy friend 0
3 19 0
collage 0