Treasure Island

saint cynosure ( Ken Bennight )


Adrift...


Adrift inside a world of madness,
tossed upon insane.
Captive to the fear of lowliness,
smoothed by rougher grain.
Crying for some place to be,
before my end of time.
And that it is of which I say,
stays puddled in my mind.
I have not said a word untrue,
I have not lied by sight.
But something within all I am,
I know is just not right.
Painfully my skin is peeled,
the burn so hard to bare.
Has it is that I scream out,
no one seems to care.
Since a child still to this day,
I dream to see my crypt.
Inside this world of madness,
all of ME's Adrift...

Submitted: Monday, December 09, 2013
Edited: Monday, December 09, 2013

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

What do you think this poem is about?



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Adrift... by saint cynosure ( Ken Bennight ) )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  9. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  10. A Dream Within A Dream
    Edgar Allan Poe

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. The Cold December, Vidura Prabhath
  2. My Love 4 You, Kristopher DeLander
  3. My tribute, Laxman Rao
  4. The Way You Make Me Feel, Kristopher DeLander
  5. Do as per the words from the mouth of le.., Dr.V.K. Kanniappan
  6. Because Of You, Kristopher DeLander
  7. In the far meadowland, Pradip Chattopadhyay
  8. I Can See Beyond The Hills, I Can Tell B.., kayanja isaac
  9. I hear again, hasmukh amathalal
  10. With Some Desires of Surviving, Rohit Sapra

Poem of the Day

poet Sara Teasdale

Only in sleep I see their faces,
Children I played with when I was a child,
Louise comes back with her brown hair braided,
Annie with ringlets warm and wild.

...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]