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Right Hand, Left Hand

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If only I could not
Be caught in the fault, I would
Enjoy that pleasure.
The clouds are waking into plans,
And I, I am no target,
Yet they had no pleasure, and a coming.
I feel no remorse for
Everything; they have simply retold my story.

Now…then…let…us…die…foreign…abstinence…con…tem…plate…
It’scomingIknowthatit’scomingbecuaseIwastrainedtoknowthesethings.





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RheaD.Ravenfinger This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
May 18, 2009 at 12:29 am
I like this poem. The last line especially because it made me laugh. It reminded me when Garfield had WAY TOO much cafine in the morning and his words were all squished together talking about donuts and coffee. He always makes me laugh. Yea I like your poem. It's interesting.
 
KICK3593 This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
May 15, 2009 at 10:33 pm
Weird outcome. The last line's far down for some reason.
Now that I look at it, a lot of it seems screwed up.
 
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