Poetry Blog by Mike Bartram

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The Pact

A flippant sale of my soul, a twisted devils pact.

Beauty to keep forever, my youth forever intact.

A hedonistic life to lead, freedom to deal in sin.

Lives left in ruins, fantasies unleashed from within.


Fade would mental scars, the devils role to heal.

My portrait bore my sins, a portrait to conceal.

If need be with ease, I can deny my age and name.

But the rats now gat...

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Round and Round

A mirror faced figure leading me astray.
Psychologically it is wearing my mind away.
It leaves me a flower, a knife turns into a key.
In my house I find there's more than one me.

Am I dreaming, does this robed person exist?
Would I even care if there's a knife to twist?
Loneliness can play evil tricks with the mind.
Reasons to live, sometimes I struggle to find.

Items change places not...

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