intent (Remove filter)
Mundane
My insides writhe like pit of snakes
As my mind runs away.
It flees from my mistakes,
Made with good intent,
As fast as my ambition got me there.
Why does my ego tote me around like a child?
Why does it feel like I'm always being punished
By my mundane thoughts?
What am I doing?
Rotting.
I eat the snake.
I abandon my ambition.
I punish myself from now on.
Monday 10th September 2018 9:37 am
Recent Comments
Tom Doolan on Poetry Is Pain
3 hours ago
David RL Moore on Too late too late
18 hours ago
Rolph David on Love The Light, Embrace The Rain
19 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on The roads taken
23 hours ago
Red Brick Keshner on still, the Earth breathes
23 hours ago
Marnanel Thurman on The roads taken
23 hours ago
Red Brick Keshner on where shadows do not drown
23 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on The Empty Streets of Ego’s March
1 day ago
Larisa Rzhepishevska on The Policemen Arrest The Men.
1 day ago
Ray Miller on The Empty Streets of Ego’s March
1 day ago