UNTITLED

A poem

Memories best forgotten
Buried deep within my mind
Like splinters you might imagine
Solace i can never find
From the past i left behind

I ask myself sometimes
What more is it i need?
With my so called crimes
My darkside do i feed
As if it was my creed.

Sick of all my darkness
Tired of all the pain
In all the daily sameness
I find i get no gain
Only that i'm going insane.

I may treat life with disdain
Punish not i beg of you
For it is my only bane.

by
Fr33L4Nc3r 2002