Repetitive Acts of Incompetence

If the words, I would permit to leave my mouth, these verbs, 
these effortless consonants, that I so wantingly, 
urge myself to say, running to the end of the world 
with them, for you, but purposely you would not allow, you deny 

And they rot to the core of me, I remind you, hurriedly, how 
you left me, in the chilling, evening hours of cold breezes, on that 
beach, there as I fortold you would, you promise me,again with 
excuses, I would forgive, foolishly and now I am to wait in vain once more 

I wait, patiently, in fear, fear of myself , fear of meandering,  
miserable moments, I cannot tend to remove, myself,nor you, 
nor a stranger I kept in circumstance, why would you blame me, 
being how I am, that I would not want for betterment, for  condolescences 

For I have not a thing to give, but my soul,as who,I ask,  
who would want my treacherous, blackened heart, punctured, 
a flattened wheel that will not turn, never taught, nor learned, 
anger,torment, smashed it, then flung it to deteriorate in desolate fields 

And you, ignorant of this, you never asked, why would you, 
you thought,as common, my madness was of no method, that I, 
frantic in action, would be careless and corrupt as society trained, how, 
could I been any different, it mattered you not, and again we play this silly game 

This poem can be read on



About jessienileacai

Irish speaker and artist. I love music, art, languages,literature, history, travel, photography, and comedy. I love Ireland, my heritage, the old ways and the beauty and people of this small island and its surrounding tiny islands
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