Does it matter?

what’s the matter…

keep it secret

keep content

nothings more poisonous

than simple dissent.

I’m not looking for trouble

not to burst your bubble…

just leave me alone

with the toil

the blood, sweat, tears

irrational fears

the nightmares

the cold sweats

the little things

the tormentings

and don’t you dare worry

because it doesn’t matter

what’s the matter

you can’t help me

anyway.

3 thoughts on “

  1. This was fun to read quite masterfully done I picked up the sceme right away but I still found myself going back and trying diferent combos.

  2. No, it doesn’t matter. Poetry is beautiful. Life sucks. Try writing poetry when you are in the hospital, screaming for painkillers, after you’ve been beaten half to death by gangbangers.BTW: I like your poem.

  3. Pure genius. I loved the chaotic flow and alternating sentence paths. Masterful. Brilliant.Did I mention I liked this very much? This is probably the bomb.

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