poetomachia

5 May 2008 at 5:41 am

Sheet of Hate

asleep beneath this sheet of hate
sometimes I like to pretend that it’s too late
just because it is white
don’t make it right

I turn my ankle and see the sky you paint
and damn me if it isn’t enough to turn this sinner into a saint
and then I hear you say that condemning me you ain’t
so in your presence I will do more than faint
either way I will end upon my face
and you hung yourself between earth and space
for me and this sick and twisted race
whom is bent with the desire to debase

by MattWriks  

2 Comments

  1. Mattwricks,

    I really like the bed and sky images. For me, this poem would have been more impactful if you had stopped it at “saint”!

    Wow, I think this is my first criticism. Was it helpful, or do I come off as an ass. . . be honest now!?

    Comment by Sunsun — 18 May 2008 @ 3:45 pm

  2. Probably apt criticism. I think the second half is spill
    over which I was in need of expressing after such a heavy
    first stanza. It probably could stand on its own in some
    bridge…

    Comment by MattWriks — 19 May 2008 @ 3:36 am

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