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Mind Is Gone
By celestine_moon
Good little Christians
Get drunk tonight
When the wind in the
Willows is raw,
And the Mad Hatter
Cries for the child
He has lost while
The preacher touches
Me with his Black soul.
The moral of the story
Is that morals are dead,
And you purge all
The blood from your pores.
So climb upon your lofty
Ego, bitterly, to scorn
All the children who
Sing upon glossy white
Wing in the rafters of your mind
Till the Jolly Green Giant
Makes you laugh in despair
And the Cat in the Hat grows old.
---"Tell my mother, my soul cannot be saved."
*copyright 1998
Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited.
Ask the author first.
Published on .
Filed under:
"Poetry"
Comments on "Mind Is Gone"
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On Tuesday, November 26, 2013, Hands_Around_My_Throat
(67)
wrote:
Morals are dead, or at least they've degenerated a great deal. nicely written
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A former member wrote:
I'd say through poetry we can save our soul, because poetry comes from the soul.
Great poem. Keep on writing. Take care.
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On Saturday, November 8, 2003, urbanhumility
(1158) wrote:
a brilliant stream of conciousness.......urban
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On Wednesday, July 2, 2003, CharlottesWeb
(509) wrote:
Something is lurking behind every word, something dark and chilling but I can’t make it out. This is an interesting poem and I’m glad I found it. ~DW~
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On Tuesday, June 24, 2003, cre
(410) wrote:
Oohh. I like. Creepy and thoughtful. Nice write.
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On Friday, June 6, 2003, manywalks
(747) wrote:
Thought provoking to say the very least. Fantastic read. ~ mw
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