A Tormented Soul
Nobody is above love no matter our background
But we all seek the lure of love...
Aloof in this peril of existence...
Shilded by my outwordly appearance of normalcy
We of the class of tormented souls have mastered
the preception that all is well
To admire the insane, is to never know what
madness can do or does to the afflicted mind
and the people that love them
To who or what empoisoned my mind, to that
undoubtable, untolerable, being, I grant
you no welcome...
Copyright © Cheryl Mericle | Year Posted 2006
|