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Critical Analysis #2
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Brigid WillowKeeper
Member
since 2003-08-24
Posts 88
OHIO IN USA

0 posted 2003-12-13 10:48 PM



I sit in a white padded room
and I fly away
in my head plays a little tune
that brings a brand new day

I feel the bugs crawling
crawling in my skin
the bugs sing their song
for they are my next of kin

I lay in the white hot sand
of a quaint little beach
ropes bind my hands
chains bind my feet

I lay on the beach so lifeless
I move no more
I am rooted by insanity so heartless
and I can smell the rising of the shore

I am drowning in mentality
insane bubbles come from my mouth
morbid little fish surround me
I diminish
and sink
to the south.

© Copyright 2003 Brigid WillowKeeper - All Rights Reserved
Brigid WillowKeeper
Member
since 2003-08-24
Posts 88
OHIO IN USA
1 posted 2003-12-13 10:51 PM


I wrote this a while ago, uhh, I may have even posted it here. I am not sure. I haven't been on these boards for quite a while.
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