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Michael Angelo Jul 2019
If my face
           Reflected
My inner scars

                         People
Would give me

                                              A wider
                                                             berth
Michael Angelo Jun 2019
How does one muster the courage
To continue on
When dying
Is the natural thing to do?
Michael Angelo Jun 2019
Why step lightly?
Why proclaim politely
The thunder cracking in your bones?
Fear- you'd do good to leave it well enough alone.
Misery is the river of the world
Now
Row row row
Up a stream you already know,
Or jump overboard
And make a big enough splash
To drown out the low drum;
The consecrated, numb voice
Singing in your ears,
"Why?"
Inspired by Tom Wait's "Misery is the river of the world"
Michael Angelo Jun 2019
My attention span
Is such.....
Michael Angelo May 2019
Tumbling Out of no where
From some indescribable source

With the force of a million babies
Squeezing your finger

Where do we find the strength
To continue
When there is war
Thievery
Taxes
Broken hearts
Lies
A 9 to 5
Religion

Life is enough
To make one want death
Yet still
We draw breath

And we find comfort in the smallest of things
Music
Hope
Love
Movies
Poetry
Games
Virtue

Had we known
The veil was so thin
Would we still have worn it
Like a cape

I think we would've
Because IT comes

From somewhere

Whatever IT is
Michael Angelo May 2019
The longer I live
The less I feel I should.
This is not my space.
I drink
To run.
Wish I could run
Away.
I run in place.
My thoughts like spider eggs
Thrive in the darkness-
My heart like sunflowers
Craves the light.
How does one stop this
Asymmetry
Without a violent fight?

The longer I look
The harder it gets to see
Any meaning.
The longer I write
The less it works
To dull my bleeding.

Does anyone have a fix?
Michael Angelo May 2019
I no longer look for greatness
Among men or the stars.
I clang my head, endlessly, across these bars.
I like the ringing sound they make,
Like church bells-
A wedding cake.
My family gathered round,
No longer hurting.
The tiny dreams that keep me awake,
For in sleep,
I am undeserving.
But sleep I must-
There is greatness in ash and dust.
No soliloquies,
No platitudes,
No profound prose.
Simply death
And cosmic truth.
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