BOOMERANG ..
Toxins tickling flesh..
Feuling my desire to be fresh,
in this godforsaken mess ..
Yet I.. Search for poison to rot my roots..
With two left feet I still rock my boots
and set out for war with a rock or two ..
While the enemy blast..
Like rockets do..
I embrace my loss, with no surrender..
Then ressurect my sins from violet ember,
as my soul turns gold in ode to tinder..
I ressurect for death from a golden trigger.
I just pray this time that the hole is bigger.
Boomerang.
This poem is about:
Me
Our world
Guide that inspired this poem:
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: