I cannot beat the passing day.
The cut is deep
and the wound is great.
You flayed the skin,
exposing my innards.
My soul has been spilt,
and lies on the ground.
will you pick it up for me,
or will you trample over it?
I'm standing here, naked.
Come slap my face!
Take advantage of me
while you still can.
I've fallen to sleep.
Please wake me from this coma.
Author notes
This is a poem that I wrote to my parents.
Written February 2nd, 2005
A contest entry
- Contest: Come In and JOIN! by Exo.
800 points, ended February 28, 2005, 11 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
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