Karen's Goth poem: written as if she had been goth at 16.

Title: Goth Poem

Oh!What deplorable and wretched state that I am in...
The inner confines of my mind are withered and wrinkled
premature of a natural time.
You are the black thumb of the delicate plant
that is my wilted soul: starving for
light and love.
Macabre are the empty chambers of my heart.
Incessant echos of what used to be.
Black paint pours over my soul like the river of Styx.
The paint must have been on sale at Wal-Mart,
lest you expend any time or any money
that would put you out of your busy ways;
even to decorate my character with shame.
O! How indecorous of all ideas!
Dark are the days that I think about
your capabilities to moor contemptible peculiarities
to my already tumultuous marrow.

So this is my very first goth poem, written according to advice i read on found Internet pages such as http://www.deadlounge.com/poetry/tips.html. Maybe I'll post this on a goth forum to get some constructive feed back. I certainly think this poem is more interesting than some i found in cyber space with a quick Google, but perhaps it's not dark enough? I think i might have used too many positive connotation words like 'light', 'love' and 'day'. I'm not sure if i acheived a gothy feel: any opinions? Also the Wal-Mart comment might bring the reader out of eternal sadness and into the humor realm. I'm a satirist by nature and thought it was too good to take out. However, I'm aware that irony shouldn't be in goth poems, unless of course it makes one sad to think about it. although, right now i cant think how irony couldn't be funny on some level! that's what irony is, isn't it? Something so tragic, yet it's funny. Like the the Crock hunter who died of a Sting-Raye...the least dangerous of all the animals he dealt with his whole life! It's sad that he's dead, but that's still kinda funny. ppl joke about it all the time.

Any how, let me know what you think of my attempt at big worded expression of depression.