Author: Kenny's Goodness
Type of Work: poem
Source: CMv1 #11
© Copyright 2002 Kenny's Goodness
It sounds like a high pitched whine,
Buzzing a high C in my head.
Slowly driving me insane,
Slowly killing my brain.
Then it speaks, cold chilling words,
A voice so soft that sounds so hard.
Never happy, never kind,
Now consumes my mind.
Tainted words are now polluting
The soul, the very heart of me.
Always speaking, speaking lies,
As my body cries.
And as it speaks, the voice gets louder,
Tearing, scratching at my heart.
The guilt inside me, the deadly crime,
Owns me for all time.