Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
moonsocketPoems
Insect rivalries disrupt microscopic tragedies Their tiny objections echo through the infinite Muted chaos mingles with cosmic clutter All is lost when stars prove sinister like so many peepholes for a pervert god Madness makes moves... I see eyes reassemble for nonsense Their only crime was observing So many sad faces and I'm sick like a benadryl boomtown Scenes full of primitive make believe Haphazard halos and plastic queens They disperse for stranger tilts fluorescent hums and cancellation Torn between vanity and breathing Raised on R ratings and nicotine Box forts in the junk pile Yellow sky and rat king stances Footsteps shrouded by loud speaker urgency Where do they go? Time runs low on another freak show left in shambles by habitual slow motion Pluck the remnants of distinction pure intentions may rearrange promiscuity We are only human We are only a collection of frantic omissions These distractions come potent These observations become motives Excuse this mind that remains remote pondering sickness and considering ghosts One last party for obscurity One last dive into the spill I never wanted your minds or graces I only wanted this banshee to stay still
0
Jul 6, 2017
Jul 6, 2017 at 5:34 AM UTC
Scenes from the garbage pile
Insect rivalries disrupt microscopic tragedies Their tiny objections echo through the infinite Muted chaos mingles with cosmic clutter All is lost when stars prove sinister like so many peepholes for a pervert god Madness makes moves... I see eyes reassemble for nonsense Their only crime was observing So many sad faces and I'm sick like a benadryl boomtown Scenes full of primitive make believe Haphazard halos and plastic queens They disperse for stranger tilts fluorescent hums and cancellation Torn between vanity and breathing Raised on R ratings and nicotine Box forts in the junk pile Yellow sky and rat king stances Footsteps shrouded by loud speaker urgency Where do they go? Time runs low on another freak show left in shambles by habitual slow motion Pluck the remnants of distinction pure intentions may rearrange promiscuity We are only human We are only a collection of frantic omissions These distractions come potent These observations become motives Excuse this mind that remains remote pondering sickness and considering ghosts One last party for obscurity One last dive into the spill I never wanted your minds or graces I only wanted this banshee to stay still
It's been a strange day
moonsocket
Written by
moonsocket
26/M
Jul 6, 2017
Jul 6, 2017 at 5:34 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem