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A Hall of Fame for Fists
Contributed by
Doriens_Picture
on
Thursday, 21st October 2004 @ 12:51:43 PM in AEST
Topic:
AngryPoetry
|
A hall of fame for fists
Mural painted over with crimson
Chasms made of anger
Knuckles bleeding dry
Making puddles on the floor
On walls that take everything
Pound away the rage
Not wanting to hurt anyone
A soul that needs venting
No one gets in the way of
As echoes from crashing hands
On concrete
Can be heard from far away
The wall seems to fall apart
But it’s me who has reached his limit
Heavily come crashing down
And all goes dark again
The floor is cold and familiar
From when my anger last took control
And my demons became me
Locked my self in my room
And took it out on the wall again
That is now just broken bits of plaster
And here again on the floor
Slowly reawakening
And looking at my gallery
My hall of fame for fists
Where my best work is done
And my soul is set free
Copyright ©
Doriens_Picture
... [
2004-10-21 12:51:43]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: A Hall of Fame for Fists
(User Rating: 1 )
by Apardame on
Thursday, 21st October 2004 @ 03:17:01 PM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
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| My cousin would love this poem. Whenever he got really angry, he would just beat his wall. Finally his mom kicked him out the house. This is a great write!!! |
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