One Acre Island
You're an empty old man now.
Wisdom fell short of your doorstep.
People are supposed to come to you for advice
, but you're still a mercury-headed fool, so they don't.
You've visibly and emotionally regressed.
Your once lush mind island is shrinking.
Overrun by rats of pig-headedness.
You dedicate every breath to yourself and nobody else.
A one-acre burning hurricane
island
of
death.
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.
