By falling in reverse,
Ive harboured true vice.
A disappointment
A disaster
A disgrace.
Fallen from perfection.
Fallen from the hill of stability.
Long since forgotten,
Not a honoured student,
The golden child.
Or the most loved.
Not even a gifted cherished employee.
Fallen from the gilded pedestal
Into the depths
Of a personal hell.
Raged with nothing but endless thoughts
No flame or fire. Or cold chill
Just the voices in my head,
Singing loudly for me
No faith
No trust
No luck
No love
No care
Just debt
Depression
Angry
And a lack of meaning in this new found land
About the Creator
Lane Burns
I am a Poet and an inspiring short story, one day novel writer.
I like to write in free verse mostly, but am heavily inspired by Emily Dickenson, and tend to create my own rules and ideas as well.
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Comments (2)
This is beautifully done. I'm sorry if you're going through it right now. 😔 Thank you for sharing this piece. 💗
A montage of jaded ideals and fading colours, so bleakly beautiful. This is a fine piece!