The Effects: Underneath, Inside


Limp my corpse lie on the bed.
Stench of sex, I smell my death.
Thoughts closed off, eyes open wide,
A silent, flustered, cursing, tide.
Hollowed out my body-- heart and soul gone
So when it doesn't happen, it doesn't feel so wrong.
Implore my spirit not to break,
It be conversant in my notorious fate.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems


Share This Poem