If you ever find yourself slouched on the world’s perfect riddance
If, somehow, all the air that’s stayed with you are smokes of cigarettes
If you know that you have fallen into the hands of hell, blazing with fire,
Flickering like live wire,
Seek further down the path-
Intrude further down the core-
For there is no question,
How diamonds find derision, isolation and hell
As places to score a flawless sleep.
Dec 11, 2015
Dec 11, 2015 at 8:19 AM UTC
If you ever find yourself slouched on the world’s perfect riddance
If, somehow, all the air that’s stayed with you are smokes of cigarettes
If you know that you have fallen into the hands of hell, blazing with fire,
Flickering like live wire,
Seek further down the path-
Intrude further down the core-
For there is no question,
How diamonds find derision, isolation and hell
As places to score a flawless sleep.
Request permission to use this poem