Smoke fills these dark caverns of my mind.
But I try not to pay attention
I try to remind myself that all the smoke
hides are rat infested corners
Cracked walls and confused looking people
who commit gross atrocities on themselves
without knowing
Feeling the pain, but not seeing the the bloodied
knife clasped in the bloody hand attached
to their own wrists
Ohhh...how they cry
But still they stab themselves

back               poetry index

Should you find yourself inspired (or provoked) into commenting, criticizing or questioning anything on these pages please feel free to E-mail us at: teraginmist@earthlink.net.