The WeakA Poem by CurlsThis is how I see myself.How often do you imagine the way for a weak man to die? Plastered with a smile, shown all's fine and years of battling life, till he can no longer try. A crash, a fall, a hang, all possible ways driven mad by his own mind. A blade touches his pulse, he slays what's left of sanity- he can never find. A devil forced to live in heaven he'll try to achieve. How often do you see a weak man hearing his own eulogy? Is it murder his murder for him if the blood gushed out is his peace? Will it just be a dream for the weak man who lives to please? And now faces turn to judge the depths of his thoughts that opened up. And now a smile that really holds a grudge to the weak man and everyone who claims the top.
© 2015 CurlsAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorCurlsLas Pinas City, National Capital Region, PhilippinesAboutWhy would you want to know things about me? more..Writing
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