Suspect - Poem by Joanne Kearsey
Facing the world with a heart as hard as stone,
No emotions linger in this canvas that bears no soul,
Stating the obvious to be hated by all,
As this psychopathic daze buries me in a deeper hole.
Plodding along this path that never seems to end,
Rebuilding the life I started so long ago,
Time goes so fast when I want it to go slower,
But speeding up until the last person we'll never know.
My head rules the portion of my heart that is still alive,
leading me to a place that is filled with so much hate,
Consuming the evil that plagues my mind,
But in the process it has ended all chance of my fate.
Everyone is a hostage of their own guilt,
As everyone is a suspect of telling these lies,
The sum of all fears begins with you as always,
And it remains as boundless as the skies.
Running around in circles to find your sense of direction,
Falling in front of an open door,
Ransoms held as you become predator instead of prey,
And you will the one left dead on the floor.
My childhood wasted on a pathetic being like you,
Rolling back into my forbidden corner,
You are now the last of the killer suspects,
And I am the one who knows no loner.
Comments about Suspect by Joanne Kearsey
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You