Ruin Poem by Sara Dickson
Ruin
Standing upon a dream carcass
I ponder
Who holds my identity
Since I am no longer me?
Under my feet
Bloody, crimson-colored muscle glitters under the red sun
And where once was a beating heart and a living body
Naught remains but a pile of smoking flesh and bones
And standing there
A maniacal laugh escapes me.
Who am I?
I am but a ruin of what I once was.
Friday, April 24, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: madness,sad
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12/7/2024 3:56:11 PM # 1.0.0
Fascinating thoughts in this poem. Worth contemplating. I like it.