In the Pit of My Stomach

photo credit: Anskit Stessi via photopin (license)

In the dark of the night time
In the cold of my bed
In the moments in between
When the feelings are raw.
When my mouth is slowly drying
And the words rot in my throat.
And the dreams are dying
Like autumn leaves falling in the breeze.
And I can’t unfeel what I’ve felt before.
And my belief is crumbling,
Oh so many nights of tears and dust.
Then there’s this feeling I get
In the pit of my stomach.
A chill like a knife blade
Twisting within my spirit and guts.
When I’d scream

If screaming counted for much.

© 2017 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

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Let it out

Thank you to all in the WordPress community, out on Twitter and Facebook too, that allow me to express myself.

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Where would we be without the ability to put thoughts onto paper – whether as fiction, poetry or in art.

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Resignation

I’ve had enough.
Are you listening?
Have I got your attention?
Yes, that was me screaming.
Showing fear and agitation
As I shouted, raved and ranted,
Gave voice to my desperation.

I’ve had enough.
I’m heading for the exit
A more fulfilling destination.
I’ve had enough of choppy waters,
Of being decaying vegetation.
I found some pride down here in the gutter
Going to rebuild my reputation.

I’ve had enough.
You can keep the aggravation.
Stick it where the sun don’t shine.
I’m going home.

photo credit: Sunset Burns via photopin (license)

photo credit: Sunset Burns via photopin (license)

 

© 2015 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.