Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2020
Oh, my bittersweet conscience
If you are truly in there
In this rattled, mess of a heart
Do not say a word
Just look to the dead, they know the way

Misery- that ******* screams
Louder than the trifling grievance that provoked him
Just as suspected, my dear conscience
Do not listen to a sound
Hold your ear to the dead, their voice is wisdom

I know you make these decisions
Bewildered at their insignificance
Don’t be misguided, my love
Every thought feeds this masterpiece
Remember the dead, and their evergreen contributions

There will be times when good hearts in great numbers
Must crouch together beneath the wreckage
Left in the wake of an evil deed
Do not cling to such a disadvantage, embrace this education
Remember to breathe for the dead for it is the wind of change

There is nothing to gain from ignorance
Trust intuition, for she is the mother of the living
And though she walks with a crutch
Remember dear conscience, she walks towards humanity
Away from the dead, they have been raised and grown

This cage that loyalty builds
Without doors or windows- only a paper-thin façade, my friend
Pass through easy with mercy
It will fall by the way, do not fear it
Now, it belongs to the dead, they know where it goes

When a traveler comes to you, thirsty
Give them no mirage, my heart of the heart
Drench their soul and send them toward love’s Oasis
This is my only command, dearest YOU
But do not tell the dead, they take no more orders.
Patrick Ramsey
Written by
Patrick Ramsey  28/M/Wichita Kansas
(28/M/Wichita Kansas)   
42
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems