Tainted Pure

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  • Life
    • ,
  • Passage

    Poem Commentary

    Some old stuff I wrote and recorded

    Tainted Pure

     The Words of the Pure
    So Often Are Unheard
    And Go on Till They Burn
    So Deep that They Turn
    To Thoughts Disturbed
    And To Make Things Worse
    Aint no Cure For the Tainted
    So When the Pain Hits
    He's Consumed With
    Feeling Unsure He'll Ever Make it

    So Life He Takes it
    For Granted and He Wastes it
    Creating for Himself
    A Fate Less Than Shameless
    Pathing Way for A Day
    He May Fade Away Nameless

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    In science one tries to tell people, in such a way as to be understood by everyone, something that no one ever knew before. But in poetry, it's the exact opposite.

    Franz Kafka (1883-1924) Czech writer.

    Insite’s Poems (8)

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    DISPLACEMENT 1 04/25/2014
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    Tainted Pure 0 09/13/2010
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    Oppressive Lust 1 06/23/2009
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