Jerome L. Jenkins


Your gravest thoughts of morbidness—
Are in my mind pure lucidness.
You sailed my thoughts so buoyantly,
Their darkened depths ye couldn't see.
Your vision's a blurred—
Your Auditing's curbed—

By Artlessness.
Oh he who evaluates simple minds;
Oh he who has sought but may never find;
Your mind from mine is far away:
I fight with night, you play with day.
You pleasure—
In your joyful ease;
I suffer!—
From a mind's disease.
My mind's a hopeless, shameful wretch!
What cure, Oh Psych, shall then you sketch?
You've swum no tears my heart has wept;
You've probed my mind but shallow depths.
I guess … I'm the puzzle … that makes you mad;
The puzzle … you wish … to solve so bad.
But you can't grasp … what you can't see,
And you can't know … what you can't be.
"A cure for me"? You haven't one!
Your cure's but for the deaf and dumb,
For they can't see … your image clear;
Yopu've filled their hearts so full of fear!
But keep in mind they're merely lame,
And unlike you, they're free of blame.
You've preyed on those … with simple cures,
And left my ills … to grow for years;
Years I've dwelt … in timelessness;
Alone within … my morbidness.

Jerome L. Jenkins

   •   •   •   •   •


Though with the flesh I dwell—
I feel as if my soul is hell.
I feel the scorching flames of fear.
I feel as if my heart is seared.

Although I see the world around—
I feel my place I've never found.
I feel the truth my veiling hides.
I feel I've searched with blinded eyes.

Although my ears may listen clear—
I feel the deaf can better hear.
I feel the shrills that rend the skies.
I feel I've heard the darkest lies.

Although I walk the arid ground—
I feel my steps are idle bound.
I feel my path is guided wrong.
I feel I've walked a journey long.

Although my words are eloquent—
I feel as if thy're never meant.
I feel I've spoken worthlessly.
I feel I've spoken hopelessly.

Although I have a mind to think—
I feel it's short a missing link.
I feel confused and consciously—
I feel as if I shouldn't be.

And though my cries have summoned peace—
I feel my tears shall never cease.
I feel they fuel my scorching hell,
A hell I feel I'll ever dwell.

Jerome L. Jenkins

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