Treasure Island

Mark R Slaughter


Ugly


Ugly said it all.
I played with light,
Smeared the glass,
Blurred my vision -
Still an arse, my face.

I drank a little more,
Talked it up - tanked up!
Still the hideous whore
Was howling in disdain,

For Ugly stared again.

F**ked up, I gave up -
Took a hefty pill.

Ugly died an ill.

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010










< br>














































< br>














































< br>

mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror
mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror
mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror
mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror

Submitted: Thursday, March 18, 2010
Edited: Sunday, July 15, 2012

Do you like this poem?
3 person liked.
20 person did not like.

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 (Ugly by Mark R Slaughter )

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. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. Forgivness, Nick Kler
  2. Beauty, andrew reeves
  3. Sweet Mirage, Maureen Alikor
  4. Circus of life, Nalini Chaturvedi
  5. Kalidas- - - (Shakespeare of India), Aftab Alam
  6. Laugh and grow fat, Bernard Onoja
  7. Follow Your Heart, Apurva Prabhudesai
  8. Fisherman's bait, gajanan mishra
  9. Hoarding, gajanan mishra
  10. In The Theatre Of Roses I Took My Seat, mary douglas

Poem of the Day

poet Henry David Thoreau

My books I'd fain cast off, I cannot read,
'Twixt every page my thoughts go stray at large
Down in the meadow, where is richer feed,
And will not mind to hit their proper targe.
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]