A couple of hours ago I was going through a bunch of my old journals and writing pads, and came across my journal from 2010-2011. It contained plenty of serious journal entries about things I was going through at the time. But I was surprised to find poems that I’ve written in it as well. One of the poems I wrote was called The Crazies. It’s shot and sweet, but was written after a crazy night I had back when I was still experimenting with different drugs.
The Crazies
I find peace in the night
From the gentle.
But in the day there is no light,
For my heart is nothing but stark.
Woe to loneliness of the heart –
A disease that come with no ease.
When will this restless feeling?
Such a peace could never displease.
My mind wonders in thought
It is as a rabbit that runs
From a fox whose hunger was bought
By the praise of his throngs.
Revenge is a dish best served warm,
Because sincere artifice hurts bad.
Thus, a curse will be sworn,
Bringing an end to my fad.
Mensur
July 17, 2011
