Rotting Poems - Poems about Rotting

As painful as it is i have to wave my goodbye Cry my very last tear as i abandon the memory of you and everyone around you i cant keep whining about the things i couldve said and done diffrently cant keep wishing for you to see me as a human being everyhting keeps on moving with times...

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Laid on my cold bed Teething, raw and primal To be mindless, to focus on what's inside. A closed door, yet God's eyes are piercing through. Sweat and tears run down, My thighs wet with tears, two petals spread open The night is potruding, my eyes are tired and dry Raw pleasure and drowning shame leaves a bittersweet aftertaste. Raw vulnerability, slicing open Yet...

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The rotting of a socialist I knew of a young man, a rebel who wanted his country to adopt the Scandinavian model of socialism. He was elected to great acclaim by the people, he wanted taxes to rise, especially among the wealthy and upper middle classes, they rebelled by slurring him in the newspapers, lurid tales about sex orgies and a luxury...

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It's that part of the year again, How many times has this happened? When did it start? I can’t remember. When my mind rages like a storm-tossed sea, And I sit, helpless, drowning, In waves that crash harder each time, Every time believing it's my last, Every time thinking I've survived, But I’m just left sinking, gasping. I am unchecked, I urge myself to seek therapy, To...

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"Dead leaves lay still until the wind takes them here and there: even the last flower is withered: yet there is a beauty in decay. " ...

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As tears fall I open my moldered eyes to see myself Blurred and grotty I’m beginning to rot now My skin melting into my bedsheets Moldy and itching with pests Am i one of them? Am i another eyesore? Am i as revolting as the blowflies? I’ll admit that i feel Repugnant in love But how can that be so When i rot for you? Look at...

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She, who consumed poison From the sight of blood that gradually rotted For all she could do was endure the smell Of a body bound to rot. Blood is thicker than water That blood was half of hers But she masked the faint smell in rotting juice. She knew, everyone else did too. One claims to know the holistic answers Until it becomes...

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I am rotting at your door It's nothing you haven't seen before I wish I could stand up and leave It's a tapestry of tragedy I weave I bring this unto myself Put my emotions on a shelf In a jar, they're there to rot This all-consuming story plot There is nothing I can do I'm projected onto you But if I try to end...

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trying to forget all your reminders...

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They all have dark hearts The Shadow The Crow The epitome Both stand behind you Both black Both speaks Relics carnivore versions of themselves The vulture and the pigeon Both eat dead things They tug Pierce pick and pull off your remains Erie bits Scavengers talking and pulling with their beaks Further dismantling devouring as as they seek The epitome Death comes yet behind you Darkness lays you down Maggots kiss...

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I cannot remember The lips that I've kissed, why, when, and how. I can't still recall The number of hearts I've broken and the way they bled. I cannot remember The days I've lived, why, where and how. I can't really imagine The essence of my existence and when I will die. I cannot remember The chances that I have missed, why, when and...

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How Much Longer Will We Sacrifice JUSTICE for MERCY With the likes of Our Dee Pee Bee's (Domestic Purposes Benefits) Before we realize it Undermines OUR morality Insidiously insinuating itself in To legislation landscaped unevenly As if handouts are 'free'. "Who DECIDES WHO IS NEEDY?" Should be the question asked. Why do we ignore Embedded in the core The rot mercy masked?...

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The shrinking violet has made her way back. for another round of acidic attacks. Blaming the sun for her shadows, the mirror for all her cracks. The mad queen of monkeys, leading a gnashing troop. Tossing stones and madly lashing While slinging vicious verbal poop.... Driving all the flavor from the soup, There she sits atop self-pity hill. Bible in...

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The rotting of a socialist I knew of a young man a rebel who wanted his country to adopt the Scandinavian model of socialism. He was elected to great acclaim by the people, to do what he wanted taxes had to go up especially among the wealthy and upper middle classes and they rebelled by slurring him in the newspapers, lurid...

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Rot on me light, like murky cool damps, That drip like some sweat in your sockets. I look on green flesh, purple, bruised and unyearned, Take it, take it, when it's all alright, Like a fight that ended in closure. Steal it from the smile, and take it. They'd rape the roses anyways, so selfish, Fine tuned to rot on me light....

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