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Look at me.
You see my face.
Why don't you shut up.
And go back to your imaginary place.
My life is a video game.
And It's always being played.
Shut the fuck up.
Before your throat meets my knife blade.
Thanks to you.
My life is shit.
So I take this knife.
My wrists now slit.
I appluad your work.
But you make me sick.
Now go back home.
You fucking dick.
©2005-2009 ~matthurst
:iconmatthurst:

Author's Comments

Second poem I wrote. Enjoy.

Comments


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:icondruacula:
Very angry and powerful, I like it :+fav:

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I like pizza.
:iconmisstressskitzy:
The ending leaves me a little blunt, that could be the affect you want but I feel it needs to be somewhat longer. Otherwise powerful.
:iconmatthurst:
Thank you :nod:

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[[link]] <<--Click it...you know you want to ;)

Art- Human effort to imitate, supplement, alter, or counteract the work of nature.
:iconmatthurst:
Thanks for the critique :)

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[[link]] <<--Click it...you know you want to ;)

Art- Human effort to imitate, supplement, alter, or counteract the work of nature.
:iconinspectorzenigata:
*blinks*

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"...the Rupan gang is searching for buried gold ....well go ahead! dig to your hearts content! This is governemnt land and any gold you find will be turned over to the treasury department and used to reduce my taxes!" Zenigata~ Fuma Conspiracy

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July 27, 2005
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