Rock Bottom

Life has gone and love is spent.

I’m rabid in my countenance.

I fall I fall I hit the ground,

The cycle spinning round and round.

And if you fell as hard as me

You’d be impaled

Far far beneath the sea.

But I can’t even fall asleep.

Irony loves company.

Be gone from me, I’m used to this

I’m holding life in balled up fists.

No chance, no chance,

The pattern persists.

If I could only wake when I’m over this.

Though by that time I’ll be long dead,

With memories of loss at stead.

Leave a comment

Filed under poem, poetry

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s