Don’t describe your miserable life
in nail-screeching stuttering syllables
when you have not even yet, side-stepped
into fear and sadness. I am chipped to the bone
with your sepia mewling. Splinters
of your melancholy seeps into my marrow.
How disgustingly single-minded you are
denying the holocaust hell of having babies
kicked from your guts and children ripped
from the heart because of someone else’s darkness.
Persevere in your pathetic play. I am gun metal
against your chipped glass. You soul is tainted
with pretend black ink. You know not blackness.
You know nightmares under your bed. Some know
nightmares in their beds. I can not snare a sentiment
for your simple plea for archetypal attention. If you must die.
Die! Keep your little hells to yourself. Not even god is interested.
Author notes
My first truly dark write. It is against my nature, but not necessarily does it not rise, if allowed to rise. I get cell-sick of pitiful people. Sometimes I wonder, perhaps, if they need aversion therapy...show them the real sorrows of the world....make them grateful their little hells are so little. whew..scary stuff.
Written July 30th, 2006
In a list
A contest entry
- Lord of the Flies by skitza.
500 points, ended July 31, 2006, 10 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
1 - 8 of 8
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Sighhh... 
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thank you gf.....yes, so many do not know, do they? At this very moment I am in a state of controlled terror, truly. thsi was dark, but needing to get out. Ty, my friend.
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Make that...CONGRATULATIONS, my Sister!!! 
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"Don’t describe your miserable life
in nail-screeching stuttering syllables
when you have not even yet, side-stepped
into fear and sadness. I am chipped to the bone
with your sepia mewling. Splinters
of your melancholy seeps into my marrow."
Sing it loud, my Sister!!! Ohhh, my God...The things I've heard people whine about!!! Get this. Once, in the 1980's, the local newspaper (big city, mind you) actually published a letter to the editor from some bozo complaining because (are ya ready for it???) the waitress brought him a straw for his iced tea. AND he had not ASKED for one. 
Whoaaaaaaa...stop the presses!!! LMAO Ok, so...he got good service??? 
I thought, ohhh, Mister...take my problems for just one day, puhhh~leeeease!!! Kinda put things into perspective for me that day. There's an old saying, something to the effect of "if we could hand our troubles to someone else & take theirs instead, we'd be wanting our own basket back in a big hurry." I know, in your line of work, you must have heard some reallllll doozies, too. My sympathies, Sweetie... Good luck in the contest, Carol... Wanda
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Omg yessss....it is everyhwere, it is everywhere. Well...they can be as pitiful as they love to be...but I wish they woudl keep it themselves so those who really know sorrow, etc. can honor their own griefs in peace.
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Well, it was supposed to be dark.....lol... ty for your comments.
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"And omg have you heard? They've raised the price of POLO ponies,how can we be expected to live?"Yep,there's alot of whinnin going on.I'm not even this polite to some of those spoken of in this. Great dark write.~Suseann
Edited on Jul 30, 2:37 p.m. because ''. -
Indeed.. scary. I can see from both sides though.. I agree with you.. and pitiful people are extremely irritating with their, 'boyfriend dumping cutting sessions' stuff... but on the other hand.. every life is disappointing.. unless you're very a) lucky or
deluded... and it's just human nature to be pitiful about it all. And one correction... God IS interested. 
(But I must say it was a wonderful ending). I liked the fact that it didn't rhyme. I don't think you could have done just to this poem, had if have rhymed... and the poem just got better after every single word.
Well... keep writing.
Thanks for entering.
skitza
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