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how sad to be misunderstood

how sad to be misunderstood

to be evicted from life

to have the full tenure

of a torrid human existence

gesture horribly at you

in faultless reputation

like that of a rancid rage

over a lost trinket

or to be quarantined

while fingerless skin scolds

and noiseless voices are raised

in a donated generosity of savage ignorance

striving to make copious amends

in vain efforts to regrettable

slow acting poison that boils the mind

oh how sad to be misunderstood

such varicose viciousness

oh it’s sad quite sad to be misunderstood

to live through and inoculated hour glass

giving limitless time to a wildfire of idiocy

and when your breath speaks they laugh

black laughter that shatters wet umbilical truths

shudders

knowledge gestures to smoking nostrils

oh how sad, how sad it is to be misunderstood

to be drenched in the rain but not get wet

in which antiquity rests with its

mythologised stupendous ill effects

getting vivid shadows massed all around

oh how sad it is to be misunderstood

until dactylic, hexameter, elegance

completes and slithering syllables

by their antiquity focus a shuddering shriek

that sends an exploding heart through your chest

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Written by
edgar-whitman-wilde
Irish
Published
Oct 3, 2013
Lines·Words
34·193
Permission

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