The blues
When I'm stuck inside
The glues of gloomy days
Without clues of what to do.
I sing blues of death.
When is cold and lonely
My soul shivering out of
My body I hear hue and cry
Of whisper of ghost in my head.
You're dead! These no life!
You're like us! You belong
With us!
Inside my suicidal thoughts
Pictures melt singing blues
hanging on a rope. Phobic and endangering I become,
Every string I glint rings a solution. Tried medication nearly died
Of overdose, meditation
Awoken the evil spirit
Like a psycho I hallucinate.
I undergo hibernation
Like a lightning bolt but
When clouds form many
Blood I wish to flood.
This is the blues I sing
When I'm down and dusted.
Frustrated without a path.
By:Melvey koka(the surgical poet) 14 Dec 2020
@ copyright reserved
Sonador( the dreamer)
© Melvey koka