Downed
I feel your eyes,
Heavy as cold lead,
Resting on my chest---
Great dauntless weights
Pushing me through the couch,
Crushing me through the ground
Through depths of Hell.
Naturally enough, I begin to panic
And jabber
Aka zuzu non biz fo metacomf
Sternly, I tell myself,
This Will Not Do.
But it is too late.
I have made a fool of myself,
And you cannot love me.
Copyright © Scott Carrier | Year Posted 2023
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment