The Mirror Image Of Myself

Somewhat Miserable Or Something Rather

Posted in Poetry by zenmaster on July 8, 2007

I figured I’ll be damned,
The tincture of past haunted me,
Never look for the present, for all I care,
For the future never arrives in between.

Never in my life feel so good,
Dare I say, “Yes, I lied to you”,
Au contraire, “You’re telling the truth”, he said,
The conversation didn’t last that long,
Started the fucking argument and exchanged words,
Voila, it takes to to tango.

I’m now sleeping by the side of the couch, comatosed,
With razorblade wounds on my wrist,
My sanity is now ceased to exist.
How bad can it be,
How bad can it possibly be.

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