The fallen knight

Who would have thought, he would be a fallen knight,
the once brave and mighty star has now fallen to his ashes.
All his praise has slowly been buried deep in people's minds,
as now he has become a fallen knight.
The one who once was hailed for his feats by the world,
and was in full glory, mortified by praises
has lost all of his praises and gloriousness.
As now, he has become a fallen knight
                                          
                                                                ­  __ Tess

This is the great trial
Of being alive
Right now

It is necessary
for all of us
to view ourselves
accurately
in the pre
Apocalypse

And yet
because of this
it is also
absolutely vital
to imagine
and work
and dream
of a world
that is different

Time is out,

Tomorrow watches me - I look back,
Building a chair in anticipation of my arrival It whispers to me,
“You’ll never be ready”

I blame myself,
The silence that filled moments,
Times I should’ve listened
To the effort that was screaming to be,

A knife i stuck in my own back,
The knife I placed there
The knife that I wanted to be the reason I failed?

Did I ever want to succeed?

Did I avoid trying so I had more to blame than just not being able to cut it?

I don’t try, I don’t succeed.
What… do I expect of me?

When moments of need
Moments in which I should’ve done more,
I stood still.
Contemplating a life that I’m not fighting for-

And now it’s too late,
Time is short— what-else is left,
But to now sit in thought,
Alone with the understanding,

That I did this.
I hurt myself.
I deserve the failure that will consume me.

Was time too short,
Or did I just ignore it.

When I sat at my laptop one day, I heard my windows flip out. They weren’t happy with their salary.
  “Ours is too high! Give us less!”
  “Yeah, you’re spoiling us!”

I went on with my everyday tasks, however, I told myself:
  “Wait, why would I give them a salary, even?”

So I stopped paying them for at least 6 hours.

The next day, they were cloudy.

I said:
  “Where’s the sunlight?”

They responded:
  “Our salary is too low! Give more!”

I was, to be fair, extremely confused, yet it made sense. I opened a window halfway, and they groaned. I sprayed them with glass cleaner, and they wept.

I said:
  “Why do you always complain?”

The windows finally opened themselves, slowly, and said something that opened my eyes:
  “Because labor with no meaning is torture.”

Lazy *******.

the lockers rife with clowns and the frittering of time as the ***** boys got ready to work their ***** minds down at the ***** factory and boast about ***** things too often degrading and unkind.

I tried to stay out of it
until one officious co-worker
had the gall to ask,
“what’s your preference in women?”

whereby, my response was,

“I see my women like flavors;
white women are too bland,
black women are too flavorful and
Indian women are a bit over-seasoned.
you need the right amount of spice.
Latina women got it but they cheat
so, I’d have to go with Asian women.
they’re perfection is unmatched.”

laughter emerged and rumbled
down the grey factory walls
where the metal tin roof had rattled,
the ***** air pervaded with rust and tears
and a mouthful of peanuts were spat onto a grimy floor

they laughed and kept on laughing
until their bellies burst

never have they heard such
a response like that before

and I just went back to work,
treading in the depths of my own conviction,
not really seeing why I wasn’t
being taken so
seriously.

The shutters
                      let
                       in
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