I KILL ME OFTEN
True is it that I kill me often
In busy mornings with no guilt
Sweaty noons are made for the kill
And gloomy evenings fit so well
Eyes don't fill and face not pale
Still I'm murdering myself
True is it that I kill me often
When my words,my thoughts
I hide, and favour those I hate
I do scratch my bald, heavy head
Each scratch is but across my soul
It kills me,kills me more than once
True is it that I kill me often
When in times I witness an insult
But keep my dissent within myself
I do sigh, a sigh very deep
Each sigh but life breath of my soul
It kills me, kills me as if drowning
True is it that I kill me often
When in fear I withdraw a shout
When in shame I ignore a kinsman
When in greed I lick those gold nails
When in anger I curse who fed me
True is it that I kill me often
[Painting;Abstract Paintings By Keith Garrow]
