Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
what is the point when destruction is nigh a wavering hand a kiss goodnight and all that remains is a dreadful sight that is hidden under its blackened cloak of opaque smoke from cigarettes thrown down on welcome mats instead of ash trays and alley cats battered strays forage for scraps in the cluttered heaps of our rotting sense of humanity perhaps if they devour the remains they will become more human than we and finally the world will find its peace the way we live forget forget forget what is pain to a man with an empty bottle in his hand for he is in better humor than the rest of his kind who swallow their depression in spoonfuls like children taking medicine let me live my introverted life let them think me queer as I laugh at them behind drawn curtains today I think I will read or write a little rather than join in humanity's biggest pratfall I am better off in the audience where I can put my good sense of humor to use and stuff my ears full of cotton when the musical numbers are out of key the ending is always happy so they say and is it so? I do not believe it it so for the heroine has gotten herself in quite a fix and her gentleman friend has gotten his big toe shot off is this living?
0
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 6:53 PM UTC
living
what is the point when destruction is nigh a wavering hand a kiss goodnight and all that remains is a dreadful sight that is hidden under its blackened cloak of opaque smoke from cigarettes thrown down on welcome mats instead of ash trays and alley cats battered strays forage for scraps in the cluttered heaps of our rotting sense of humanity perhaps if they devour the remains they will become more human than we and finally the world will find its peace the way we live forget forget forget what is pain to a man with an empty bottle in his hand for he is in better humor than the rest of his kind who swallow their depression in spoonfuls like children taking medicine let me live my introverted life let them think me queer as I laugh at them behind drawn curtains today I think I will read or write a little rather than join in humanity's biggest pratfall I am better off in the audience where I can put my good sense of humor to use and stuff my ears full of cotton when the musical numbers are out of key the ending is always happy so they say and is it so? I do not believe it it so for the heroine has gotten herself in quite a fix and her gentleman friend has gotten his big toe shot off is this living?
zita-nonie-hasenkamp
Written by
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 6:53 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem