Dirt On The Ground Poem by Linda A

I hope to get sick
And die soon someday
My death couldn't come soon enough
I'm tired of the delay

In the agony of meantime, I am submersed
I know my soul has long been cursed
Believe what you will, it carries no worth
I’ll speak my discord regardless, and in verse...
There are no words to accurately describe
My nightmare coming alive
No soul bearing being could possibly contrive
It is a punishment that I survive
Broken is my fate
Even my shadow leaves ruin in its wake
All I touch I violate
Into pieces my core apart breaks
The remains haphazardly surround
Every clump mixed into the dirt on the ground
Only distinguishable is my heart as it pounds
And pounds....forever, as pain has no bounds