my soul is weakening;
with every passing day I care less.
my heart,
that unused muscle in my chest,
beats slower every second that I'm here.
on this couch
nothing matters much.
I would rather pass into oblivion
than feel this pain.
the pain I can't avoid through work
or friends or life.
so I let slothfulness eat through
my carefully polished exterior.
I let the wasting of my heart,
my soul,
continue until there is nothing left.
nothing to spend on the all consuming
mind numbing pain.
Author notes
This is my :sloth" poem. my poem on all the sins is called "XBox Never Was Happiness"
A contest entry
- Seven Deadly Sins (Rounds???) by Crazy9Piano8Freak.
450 points, ended August 6, 2008, 7 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Never was there a comment that I could not love
Comments
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Ouch.
And so the beauty comes in this torrent imagery,
this is nice, it has a wonderful cadence to read aloud. Well done.
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this is an interesting one. I definately see your point of slothfulness, but i didn't really like the way it flowed. I'm different from everyone else, and my poems don't exactly flow that great either, so i'm going to focus on the words and meaning behind them for now.
I hate having to make all of it fit together, so it'd be unfair to 'grade' you on that. 
great job though!
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