Concentration
i got thinking
of all the
drinks
that killed
thoughts
locked in
brain cells
it's a fine line
it's genocide
a grey area of
grey matter a
matter of fact
the barbed wire
wrapped and worn
around my head
jesus by no means
a crown of thorns
more orna
mental
not a
keep
sake
just a
means
of trying
to stop pos
sible thoughts
from escaping
but the ones
that are con
fined in mind
are visually
enigmatic
and i should
not see
them so in turn
they turn into
the words of
the script of
the movie
stalag
seven
teen
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
