A Poem by Andrew Gleeson

A short poem I wrote a few months ago.

A soul
is a hole in your chest,
a void
we fill with what feels best.
I know now
I'm as bad as the rest.
I was lying before,
but now I confess:
blood lost
won't make me a man.
My secrets:
a very dark land.
I'm sorry
for taking your hand;
for breaking your fingers
and stealing the pieces.

© 2011 Andrew Gleeson

Author's Note

Andrew Gleeson
I'm not sure I like how this ends.
As always, constructive criticism is appreciated.

My Review

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you can't ever fill that hole, can you?
in our blind rage and pain we do terrible damage to those who love us

i like the ending quite a lot


Posted 11 Years Ago

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Added on April 22, 2011
Last Updated on April 22, 2011
Tags: soul, hole, whole, void, simple, confession, lie, lying