Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2019
I want to think  abount  the smuge on my refrigerator
and a **** in an empty elevator

I KNOW IT WASN'T ME!!


To the deep and tangle of wood.
Of cackle and of croak.
Find me left of no regrets uncloaked  with singe and smoke.

The sun unsean and far from sight
this ever dark of night.

So too shiver and of faint,
did the woods enease, envoke.

The firey hate I have of all
that I ever stoke.

So  to light, or rather
fight.

The hope eternal night.
This feeling is of a drearyness.
So to other worlds alight.


So within this swamp of soot
and eyes too break of day.
Focused only for the dark,
that of yesterday.

Be the light unnatural,
Be it weeping willows.

Is the place to find me now,
I hope your dance can follow.

So forward, forward,
through the muck.
while we sink together.

An anger that we hope to shed,
this our common tether.

So upon our doorstep,
us of little faith

that we might to hold the hate
is foolishness awry
for anger is the tempest
and cleansing of our homes

for the mind is but a fabric
and the blood of God the dye

these wonders make a fool of me
andme to jest about


so could I find I better time
to worlds of lesser shake.

but cowards are around
and shimmer like a snake

I'm of a universe
I do not have a stake



So would I to a different path
that of less mistake.

this I cannot know
the wind will tell you so

it is of a place
we might never, ever go.


so tell me then .As you tire.
I write with toungh in cheek, but never
of a charlitin and never of a lier
and with the passing of your time.
you never paid a cent.
but think It funny of your mind
that I often pay to rent.
Written by
Krison  35/M/Us
(35/M/Us)   
419
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems