Reflections of me,
Staring back at me,
No denying what I see,
Is the ugliness within me,
Anger is all that lingers,
Take a pill,
So you can feel some type of thrill,
Hopefully the pill won't make you ill,
So you can find a way to deal.
Your mind is sick,
With every tick,
You drift,
In the past,
I didn't think it would last,
Dark shadows are cast,
From the past.
Ever since I came to 956.
I'm also sick,
Thinking about Destiny,
Wherever she is,
I guess I'm going to have to live with what I did.
About the Creator
Yvonne Knight
I'm trying to find a place for my writing.
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To Your Taste
Ketchup or mustard a squirt of each, or blended, French fries to your taste A fun poem with the 5-7-5 format. Perhaps you prefer Ranch dressing, or plain fries...try mixing a dot of mustard with ketchup. Better yet, buy Portland Organic Ketchup. You can eat it with a spoon! Ketchup from Portlandia. 😁
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It is hardly debatable that the world has always been run by a bunch of aging dinosaurs, mostly male, who refuse to allow the younger generation to bring about changes. Politicians and leaders everywhere refuse to release the reigns of creativity and leadership until they are dead or dying. It is time to give the young a chance to revolutionize and change the entire landscape of their existence. Those of us with one foot in the grave, so to speak, should wake up and realize that we are not the ones who will be living in the world in the years to come.
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