Nick Trim Poet Rhyme

Depressed and Messed

I can’t control myself, I’m remote
within radio range and scope
but far so small and mote
receiving signals through smoke 
directed through ash to choke
seems circular nothing to note
unbearably tied like a rope 
no baring clear to approach 
unaware I’m walking to croak 
in smoke near clifftops and slopes
mind numb uncared and broke
a snowball no brake to poke
an inclined decline no joke
with my lifeline tied I’m roped 
and until it ends I’m fooked

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Caren Krutsinger May 20, 2019 at 2:00 AM Nick, it is peculiarly funny to me that that ending word you instinctively knew had to be twisted up a bit, so you cleverly and methodically centered the entire poem around it. I often begin with the "ending line" too. Good one. Nick Trim May 20, 2019 at 5:21 PM actually I had a different ending but then realised I could use fooked and that it was so much more power than the original line I had, which flopped, though I admit it was a joy to come across, probably wouldn't have used it had I not got used to cencoring for soup lol thanks :)

Nick Trim May 19, 2019 at 7:43 PM I don’t know where I’m going I don’t know where I am it’s like I’m not in control there’s nothing to see or hear no prospects nor freedom it’s dangerously disastrous and the only way to break free is death.