Thomas Dorman

Rookie (4th of April,1991 / Leven, Scotland.)

Languid Words Of The Mad - Poem by Thomas Dorman

my immune system has a lot of work to do today;
got a lot of open wounds to coagulate.
to keep itself alive
the heart wants death
the brain wants death
the immune system can't think for itself.
i guess that's irony.
if i did what i'm told and lived for another person's higher calling
maybe i'd live longer.
maybe i'd have a purpose then



so far away
so totally gone
i wish i could be
somewhere alone
blood streaked arms
lacerations from frustrations
relief from beneath
the skin,
torn,
upheaval
bloodletting the demons out
pain no more?
pain is evermore

there is no point
there is nothing.

is this it?
is this what it's all about?
is this the ever-promoted, widely spoken of 'life'?
is this it?

it's a waste of time
quite frankly.


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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, March 25, 2009



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