LIFE OF A TREMBLER
I was born on the thirteenth of November,
under a raging sky with falling stars.
Ever since I've been a failure and a trembler.
A human disgrace with bloody scars.
The naval cord stifled my breath.
So I bit it of, that meaty thing.
Saved myself from an early death.
To confront death in his own ring.
My mother took me home to the poorhouse.
My father left right after the rape.
Nothing could turn him into a spouse.
He'd always been used to escape.
I was raised among lice and fleas.
Running nose and dreadful eyes.
It's hard to find happiness and peace,
when all you get to eat are dead cat's eyes.
Ran away at age thirteen,
followed by a raging sky with falling stars.
The road was lined with shadows obscene,
trying to lick my bloody scars.
Found a house, a little shabby, just like me.
Put myself to rest and yes, I'm resting still.
Hiding at the age of sixtythree, you see,
hiding is my will to be.
I'm all alone and I like it like that.
It's everything I ever knew.
So let me be 'til I fall flat,
'til I find my heavenly view.
Poetry by Daybreaker
Read 474 times
Written on 2006-10-10 at 22:50
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Kathy Lockhart |
|
-Angela |
|
keith nunes |
