Poetry: Stone in My Soul


Empty and cold,
A stone in my soul,
The bricks of decay,
Leave me open and alone.

Sorrow is a word, and that’s all I’ll venture to know about it.
I can’t write anymore than I can cry,
Given towards tendencies for pain, life is a bitch.
My spirit boils over and my flesh begins to die.

Spoils of resentment lead me to the noose,
And, behold, it’s already tied,
My one last favor,
On my favorite ride.

There’s a ledge beyond yonder,
So let’s get in the car and go,
I haven’t the patience to wonder anymore
If we’re really going to reap all we sow.

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