A refreshing modicum of distraction,
waltzing in to pillage my satisfaction.
My depravity transudes into brittle bone.
Your affections resemble stick and stone.
You left me pendulous, much to my chagrin.
And you are still my filth, my original sin.
I love you still, in ways that contradict.
You are to me, as opium is to an addict.
Perhaps there will dawn such an hour,
when 'tis you beneath my hand of power.
Were there such a moment, such a sight,
to be proven wrong just once, but not tonight.
No, tonight...I repudiate you in all your glory.
In this calignosity, you'll find no love story.
At this juncture, I thirst for your bereavement.
We'll consider your malaise a rare achievement.
I desire you still, therein lies the satirical torment.
This breach of trust with fraudulent intent.
I could be your beloved "Helen of Troy"...
If only you'd submit, and be my whipping boy.
A contest entry
- Read What I'm Saying To You by zappa.
2200 points, ended September 30, 15 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Opinions Please
Comments
-
luv ur stuff
i could be your beloved helen of troy... what a great line it should definitely go in a history book as a classic example of metaforic writing
-
-
Thank you so much for the positive comment. This is the first thing I have written in awhile and I am glad to know that some one liked it. It seemed a little stale to me, so I possibly refresh it later.
But uh yea, thanks again really.
~MotherMachineGunn
-
Adding your comment:
