Inner Child


I haven’t written any poems in a number of years.  I’m not exactly sure why I stopped, but I wanted to slowly get back into it again.  I was reading some of my older poems I’ve written and wanted to share a few of my favorites over the next couple of days.


Inner Child

The feathers floated down to the puddles,
and I knew it was too late.
A child’s dream still held on to the nonsense,
but the eyes that didn’t want to open..started to flutter…
I knew the bullet wasn’t physical,
but the aiming was precise
and the damage…was equivalent.
You never had to see to of known
that the blood-loss was substantial,
I could of told you that between the mouth fulls.
Can you hear the gargling sound of death?
It becomes a sweet symphony of maturity,
when the naive innocence insides decays.
You’ve slain a part of me that I’m better without.
I don’t know whether to thank you or cry,
I’ll never dream again…
Subconscious bitter coldness,
Goodbye Inner Child…


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