Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
The blind old man is out of his cage again
His straightjacket crumpled on the floor
He's on his knees screaming
Boney, grout shaped knees
His voice, mewling, coarse

From the stains on the wall
Once freshly painted
Bloodied, broken knuckles
Tattooed their harsh sounds
Spraying gnarled fingers
And twirls, to landscape
Unpleasant worlds

His chains, now unlocked
Not smashed, shattered but worn
The jacket was removed from
Boney, sticking beaten shoulders
Sticking wrinkled, age born

A moment between breaths
He screams once again
Crying out for wonder
The words unsaid
If there was a window
Not just a door
Would that he be fed?

The door's hung open
Freedom, from his punishment
Complain about injustice
But slaved to blown out knees
Taunting shadows bleed

I might have pity, but no
A small broken man, created
But he's not blind, self denied
Just to scared; open your eyes
Look and see, the way is clear
It's all in your head, stupid fool
The war is over, history's written

Leave over your opinions about right
The victim's plight, not my time
Nor even yours, stupid lies
Go live your horrid life
Nothing from me

I have my own, beautiful life
Injustices of the past play no part
I'm not concerned with history's specifics
And neither are you, not really
You only want for yourself
Looking for handouts
Whining about fair

My hands are worn, torn
A lifetime's hard work
My back is tired
My knees are sore
I come home tired everyday

I don't care about what you think
I'll protect what's mine
Not give it away
For the sake of the dead
Not either for those that just sigh

It's not about you, it's about my house
My family and our home
You ask for stuff and take from them
You say it's fair, but not to me
Not my children or my gorgeous wife
I've worked my life,
Not you for me

So stuff your share
What you think is fair
Indian heritage and broken knee
It wasn't me, it wasn't mine
I'll not share your burden

If you want tears, then cry
You want more than you have
You can do as I
Work real hard
From dawn and after dark
Get what you make
Not ask for mine
Two bodies joined
In three word acts
Painted fingers tasked
Return to dig, bite and squeeze
Large hands hold; lips kiss

Scented vanilla, sugary; sweet
Baby oil makes for slippery
Returns in and home
Filling, gasping, holding bold
Muted cries in lovers ears
Desperate, ******* and alive
Out of breath, breathe

Skin against skins
Two as one
Makes for three
Beautiful
Words
It is a cold hearted world we live in filled with lying and deceit,
where hypocrisy is the mean of utter good conceit
Everything we do is mainly by statistic,
when will we wake up and realize democracy is realistic
Corruption is the main seize of power,
and we will only realize the truth in the final hour.
#arrogance #disgust #corruption
#help society
when we
walk the line
the fabric of
space and time
just a
ripple in
your mind
You had very kind eyes.
I have rarely ever seen a man
With truly kind eyes.
Rest in peace, Robin Williams.
Next page