The Open Book, Life

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Life
Life is like a Rasta red book
Ticking like a neon white clock,
Until the sorrow of a black death falls upon you

What was once a glimmer of hope,
In a life so dark and depressed,
Has now turned to the very thing witch one lives to avenge,
Is now the concept has committed adultery on your soul

Depictions,
Descriptions,
Delusions,
Life





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SMWells said...
Jul. 1, 2011 at 12:36 pm
I would like to read something else by you. Have you maby interd somthing in a diferent catagory? If so... please let me know.
 
SMWells said...
Jul. 1, 2011 at 12:34 pm
I think if this subject weren't so worn to death, the poem is pretty good,but poet to poet, if you chose such a common subject, it hast to captivate the reader from the first line or no-one will read it.  Don't give up though, I liked it. 
 
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