It's all in the mind
Of a child's heart at play.
Toys of usual torment
His games for all to join in.
Oh, the joy of the crimson paint,
Using his hands to draw his masterpieces.
One lick would give the taste of copper.
A son for a year, leaving images in red.
One such memory of the man he drew
Who blew off his own fucking head.
Son smiles at this drawing he created.
Wonderful child.
I offered him everything he needed,
From my disfigured being to his virgin innocence.
I watched him leave the piss soaked robes behind,
Slipping into a dry attire; I'm so proud.
He did not follow my path.
He drew the blood soaked memories,
But left them in a museum
Built in my mind.
Comments
1 - 7 of 7
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you pained a lot of intense visuals
for the reader to follow, which i liked
and i liked that you grabbed my attention
at the beginning, and kept giving me reasons
to read until I reached the end. -
wooah. thats epic.
so sad, but so freaking beautiful. haha nice write.
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WOW
this is deep. I kind of sound like a father wanting his son to be better than he was. please correct me if im wrong but that is how i saw it. very good write as always. -
It was sad, but who cares when its that good.
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HEy awesome very good this is impressive gud job!
Keep writin!!
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:: cries :: Oh my gosh. This was so...sad. I read from list of new poems by faves, I will come back to check out the video later today. Wow. This was brutal and amazing.
Write on.
~*~SP~*~
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brilliant work
i enjoyed this poem, well done friend.
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