Poem -
A man distressed inside
Swamped by the weight of my epitome I slowly rise.
Life, a drowned flower, needing, wanting, love.
War.
Swords. Weapons. Pandemonium.
Why have I lost such a breathing desire?
The sight of my past swallow my soul.
Feet gallop the sea,
let them free
let them go
with the click of the trigger he erased his memory
He left you, he left me, but the Devil is now free.
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Comments
Dear Author,
" Life, a drowned flower, needing, wanting, love.
War."
I am much impressed by the above lines of your verse,
Regards
Williamsji Maveli
Very much appreciated
It's very perceptive to cross the gender divide and get an accurate portrayal of the more profound workings of their mind. I know plenty of men who don't come close to tapping this emotion inside. Impressive and very insightful
I wasn't classifying all men to fit this distressed man that I wrote man in this poem. The man that I wrote of was very depressed and didn't know what he was doing with his life, he was crying for help, for love and compassion
"Life, a drowned flower, needing, wanting, love.
War."
As I explain in this line. He was at war with his thoughts.
True, it isn't all men. I'd say there are a number of men, and women for that matter, fighting a war with themselves without being sure of what it is they're fighting.
Exactly.