H.J. Shreeve (26/5/1987 / Hobart, Tasmania)
The toxic waste that I excrete
I, a product of environment,
I want to vomit, vomit and vomit,
I want to cry,
once a sparkle in my fathers eye.
I was force fed.
Stuffs I wouldn't eat,
walk through town centre at night,
vomit in the street.
How much can fragile flesh handle?
my piss has turned red.
My mind aches,
all I have is t.v.
time to sleep.
Comments about this poem (Vomit by H.J. Shreeve )
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