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Myopiate [the last laugh]
by Laura DoomMy mother rocks me
from grave to cradle.
My imaginary friend
thinks I should grow up.
My lover hates me,
but will never leave me.
My therapist has two heads,
one for each account.
My conscience is clear
as night swallows day.
God is amused
by my frustration.
I have taken His name in vain
yet no-one takes me seriously.
Ha! Thus no-one takes you seriously.
That's what I keep teling myself. 08/20/2009 Posted on 08/20/2009
Copyright © 2025 Laura Doom
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by George Hoerner on 08/21/09 at 11:58 AM If God is against you, your mother follows you through life, and you've made your shrink grow a second head, I'd say you should keep bing yourself. Your doing all the right things!! |
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