You Tell

You tell what you deceive,
You send me back to the revelry,
I am terrified beyond this matter,
For I shake the beginning,
Completely within my knowledge.

I see you behind the mirrors,
Their image shines too lightly,
For the tense limbs encumber you,
Forcing wishes to be correct.

You can tell me about breakfast
For the soul, convinced me
I was hungry.
Let my limbs be strong after bones
Crack being brittle,
Being this anger is a death
For the sudden soul’s wrong.
Thursday, March 6, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: anger
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