The Starvation Of A Stubborn Soul
An ulcer in the stomach of your mind,
No food for thought can get by.
Locked inside a protective cage,
A provocative expellant of words,
An accelerant of rage.
You repel any opportunity for rehabilitation,
Any offerings of salvation or education.
But your cells are just a corrupt prison
Confining you with a blinded vision.
And you refuse to let your soul be saved,
Keeping you safe but keeping you slaved.
Chained to your thoughts,
Stubbornly duct taped to your ways,
But they starve and decay.
They lack nutrients, yet you live off them,
Your nineteenth century Irish opinion.
You chose Great Famine
With a twenty five percent mortality rate.
An anorexic viewpoint,
In which you purge with an acidic hate.
A spew of poison that now leaks through my veins.
"Bite me" you say.
Oh but today, I will eat your alive.
You and that zombie brain.
I will make you wish you had died,
Your egotistical vanity will perish in vain.
YOU ARE READING
weeds: a collection of poetry
Poetryweed noun (1) \ ˈwēd \ Definition of weed (Entry 1 of 3) 1a(1): a plant that is not valued where it is growing and is usually of vigorous growth ⚠ TRIGGER WARNING ⚠ Contains imagery and subjects of: - Death - CSA
