my lost contentment

to deny my lost contentment
would result in the resentment
of the eyes that shake the dead.
i devour what i'm fed.

rotten food that stinks of mould
is equivalent to cold,
misty mornings, when a dream
i interpret as a scream.

©LukaKorba

[IMAGE: https://steemitimages.com/DQmZR8pSqX1ivu9RTHHjw5nk8jCKrKTYKxB8S41vaJZkP2E/rotten.jpg]

~ Image Source

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If you enjoyed this poem and are interested in reading more, consider checking out my blog at @lukakorba and following me for brand new poetry and art daily!

You can also follow me on other social media platforms here:

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You can now also join my new poetry server on Discord here.

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Check out my new poetry book entitled 'one hundred and ten' here:

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With love,Luka.