Stains On My Soul
Wednesday: February 4, 2015 After studying various poems by e.e. cummings, our English assignment was to imitate his rebellious style and write our own concrete poem. Welcome to a world where the psychotic make sense and the sane laugh hysterically but tears still come while the smile fades away. But my subtle ginger colored eyes were Warmer than the cheap excuse for coffee that filled my stained black mug. The loveless wind became your symphony to my ears while the insanity created a painted image of lonli- ness that Van Gogh never could. Happy replaced ...