An Open Book


An Open Book

This is my area my comfort zone so watch me mope//

Watch as I sick back through plenty strife while I try and cope//

Open these shutters with an open mind//

I've only shown tears in the rain for pain, they carry mine//

Sip of the shame for its bitter sweet, surely sublime//

Understanding facts of a mad man who surely, tasted swine//

In the thunder I yell, I plunge further in the depths of hell//

The tone of my voice is like a low roar//

Lions den hear the growl of my empty stomach, its the foul that I'm in//

Crawl on all fours like an animal, its the way I got in//

Treat me like an open soar, a scist//

maybe an open book tattered, with the line through his wrist//

Picture this while I was stumbling nobody came for me//

Lost and abandoned I felt god had let me be//

In the end Im tarnished with no memory who Im supposed to be//

So I threw away the past, started a new and what came only heaven seen//

Opened doors, felt like opened dreams//

A mystery to many tho set me free it was beautiful//

An open book in an empty casket at my funeral//


surreal poetry
How does it work?
Read next: I Am A Bullet.
Ruben Gonzales

I write for poetry, for life, to take one's understanding so much deeper then that they know of. I tell the stories with a meaning thats beyond with a feeling that will pull you in.

See all posts by Ruben Gonzales