We may be the black sheep, but we darn sure aren’t raised weak and soft like fairytale fantasy sheep ran by little bo peep.
If I gave a dollar for everytime I bothered not only would I be broke, but a broke joke. Those memories are needles and those needles they poke. Then they pierce. You all wonder why I come off fierce?I could be a needle too. But, what good would it do? Except, to keep hurting people with my actions never caring for their reactions. These situations could be mediated and solved. Nah…. think not. Instead I’ll be the living dead become numb and take in what I need to help the reminiscing inside my head dissolve. Just leave you all in thin air instead of dust in the wind like you left me. Tell me….. How would you sleep knowing the hole Karma buries you in is dug extra deep? You won’t see karma coming either . Because she will come as a wolf disguised as a sheep and you won’t hear a thing
Poetry
Comments are closed.
Likes
1437 Views
Share:
I think this is so interesting. The rhyme scheme you evoke – rather untraditionally- gives this poem such an individual flair. Love the poem about the other and the way you wrote this!
Thank you so much! I am happy you called it poetry because it is. I make up my own ways to write in rhythm, I don’t always follow the rules haha. Feel free to read my other work. I have a broad range of poetry I like to write.