Composed society a system complex rotten and deformed
Unfettered anger frustration and anguish festering the storm
Putrid blisters of vile memories sobriety castrates the scorn
Impostor hypocrites who pose as friends devour each victims form
Again, again I plunge my pen this cauldron of memories mourned
Unspoken I vent forthright enigmatic in dreams I am reborn
Unbroken, unbent, unwavering, dramatic
I drag along the garden thorn
© JDMaraccini 2020
__________________________________________
(side note)
I sat in a room inside my mind then felt this wave of frustration, pent-up emotions, and dark thoughts flood over me. Sort of like an over flowing inkwell of melancholy and rage; stemming from most likely a collection of pain and oppressed memories.
I stared at a pen at the edge of the table then watched it roll to the ground. It was there; in my mind I saw myself plunging that pen into my hand. Like fabric getting caught on the thorn of a rose bush I dragged it across my arm, then turning it like a key; I am released from this reality.
5 hours later the sun was rising and the poem was complete. Each word precisely placed to satisfy my creative angst.
-JDM
__________________________________________