Mood Swings by Burton Keeble
And how in this confused state,
My bodiless legs have strode these streets,
Wherein my mind my madness meets,
My grievous troubled soul to mate,
And give birth to sorrow ; then entreats,
Me welcome change and troubles to abate.
My bodiless legs have strode these streets,
Wherein my mind my madness meets,
My grievous troubled soul to mate,
And give birth to sorrow ; then entreats,
Me welcome change and troubles to abate.
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Rating: N/A |
This is a quickie that came to me while I was in a fit of depression and anxiety. Writing it gave me immediate respite from the difficult time I was in.
I wrote it in the back of my Kiteredge Shakespeare's Hamlet. Spontaneously, and in rhyming iambic pentameter (I think)., back when I had a brain. That iambic pentameter is infectious!
The streets were the streets of Cambridge, MA. The madness was the torment of an unrequited love.
*That's con-fus-ed (three syllables), ya'll :)
I wrote it in the back of my Kiteredge Shakespeare's Hamlet. Spontaneously, and in rhyming iambic pentameter (I think)., back when I had a brain. That iambic pentameter is infectious!
The streets were the streets of Cambridge, MA. The madness was the torment of an unrequited love.
*That's con-fus-ed (three syllables), ya'll :)
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good - a |
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this poem is relly relly cool - kassie |
