matt fromm (march 24 1982 / los angels, ca.)
What the hell.
Don't you wish?
I wish the fog would clear up.
I wish the forums to be real, creative, honest would just appear.
the veins in my body, the poems in me head the lust for life, love, poverty sobrietuy everything else would just appear and make life more beautiful.
it has in some way. but death still stalks
I think of beautiful things like anything besides my self.
I am not beautiful
I am not ugly.
I don't even really exist.
none of this is real
did I spoil the ending for you?
am I skimming the surface?
course not. now its time to die.
Comments about this poem (What the hell. by matt fromm )
Top 500 Poems
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley