Bio by Self XX

They quarter-toned their deliverance
agenda based and ill conceived
in a quiet corner there was always eyes
looking at me smiling
the quiet ones were wise.

I perched myself on ill things
that smacked my ass enough
for me to learn pain has a purpose.

In the end I was still learning me
you were still trying to convince me
that what you knew was true.

It's a gold rush dream towards heaven
but, most of what matters here is blue.




This poem is about: 
Our world


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741