First poem of 2008 posted today. This was a weird poem to write, I just kept putting lines to paper and this is what came out. A very downtrodden poem about dealing in your mistakes and regrets, and a the inability to move past the things you've done. Or the things you can't seem to do. Very different cadence than my normal poems, I can feel the rhythms as I write it, but I am not sure if it will have the same measures in the eye of the reader. This may not be a poem that translates for anyone else, though I see my own message and meaning in it. Poetry hasn't been easy the last month or two, but I like writing it, it feels cathartic. I think that even posting ones that may not resonate to everyone at least helps me in terms of expressions. As always thank you for reading.
Broken to my own stained set of living,
One more day to wallow in my filth.
Sweat and grime are all I have for giving.
Crashing down on a lost chance at wealth.
The dirt just won't wash off my person.
Blackened dirge to drown out my health.
Unclean even in a world of dream,
Where the cost of taxing feels obscene.
And I'm drifting out on a darkened stream.
Threadbare and thin, without a hope.
Wrapped amid such unbending hurt.
So worn out hanging by a frayed rope.
Done so many very bad things,
That won't wash away amidst the scrubbing.
Just adding up like so many layered rings.
Can't even see the man I use to be,
Just a dirty reflection in the mirror.
And the scum of wanton apathy.
End of Line.