i bring a hastening
i bring the wastening
i bring the shadow of days
and warriors of old
to fight in them
i bring the dark
a fatal spark
“i bring postcards
from the mailbox”
he said in his gangster voice
another bout
another shout
i bring a pestilence
i bring a foul disease
to this ease
i bring the monsters
i bring the doubt
the hate the noise
the scare
the fear
i bring surprise
both in fresh lies
the angst the fugue
and the leer
i bring the empty
i bring the dear
this empty gets tangled
mixed up with the full
leaves you thinking
you actually have a choice
it brings a hell storm
and a dull funeral dirge
you may have heard
but it wasn't.....my voice
a nearing so endearing
there is no mending
the never ending
it just goes on
make sure you know
what you want
it just goes on
or is forever sending
a postcard to you
About the Creator
Brenton F
It's just a token of my extreme - Frank Zappa
- - -
I have an eBook, a collection of my favourite pieces
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Comments (5)
The overthinking really kills! Loved your poem!
This hits home. Love this poem!
This is great. Doubt is a monster we're all familiar with.
You bring a lot with this one! 📬
Thank you for brightening up my day with your poem