Insane...
Maybe so.
Madman...
No.
What am I to do
raised upon neglect and cruelty
I was never shared a smile
or offered a compliment
Does a face
really have so much effect
that my mother cowered in fear
and my captor lashed at my bare back
As I lay bleeding
in a pitiful heap...
I suppose so.
These eyes
have seen no mercy.
Shall I give any in return?
Yet my soul longs for comfort...
Why must none approach me?
Am I that revolting?
The flame of a candle
rages in my hand
much like the beast inside me.
I have reason to believe
the world will show no sympathy
to a monster such as I.
The little boy inside me
wants to be loved
but is only left shivering in the mud...
The burning flame
licks at the wax hungrily.
The world showed no compassion to me
And I will give none.
Author notes
This is in the mind of the Phantom of the Opera...
God, my poetry is deteriorating. Bare with me.
Comments
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Beaututiful
Very beautiful,
Beautiful in a very dark way, not the sunny bright beautiful.
But the dark, depressing, beautiful.
The way you put the words is just lovely.
I rate this poem a three aapplaud for the lovely way you put it all together
.
celtic
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