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Sunday, December 18, 2011

Rough Patches


My hands are icy and my stomach speaks
So do my thumbs, all they can do is scream
The stress seeps from a chaotic brain
The rage pours from realms of the insane
This is where I feel my lowest
Upon pointless pursuits
My shoulder turns to ice and vision becomes redder
The boundaries I once kept meet the shredder
Swallowed sandpaper sends scars throughout
Blindly fighting against illusions of doubt
This is where I feel my lowest
Shooting shots at the dark
All I can hear is the *click click click* and tones
Radio-wave mayhem from phone to phone
These are the times that mold and shape
They’re moments that matter, where friendships are made
This is where I rise from my lowest
The path before me returns into view

4 comments:

  1. I like this poem a lot, one of my favorites. It has some powerful lines in it. Lines 6 and 8 are my favs

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  2. Hey thanks man. I really appreciate how much you follow and care about my blog. Glad you enjoyed this one, cuz I wasn't so sure about how it'd be.

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  3. Dude... well done, that's all I can say. I love poems like this where you really portray a lot of deep emotion. I love reading this kinda stuff man

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  4. Well I'm so happy to hear it. I often wonder if poetry and things like this are still relevant and able to be appreciated by younger crowds and my peers, and I think the answer is yes.

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