I have not put pen to paper in a good while.
It is probably for the better.
The blinds hide the world.
Listening to movie trailer music,
I write and hope.

What happens when you get older?
I hate it when people say they are "young".
You're 40 years young?
No.
You're an *******.
We are dying from the moment of birth.
Don't forget that.
Pessimistic and proud.

Sometimes I sleep with the T.V. on at night.
A constant reminder that my dreams can give way to
war,
famine,
Perez Hilton.
If this is how the World ends,
life was good.

You see...
This is why I don't write anymore.
Poems that give way to inner thoughts.
How deep and depressing.
I could write more...

I won't.
Maybe.

Poems that end like highway wrecks.
Leaving you wanting
nothing,
but a refund.

Slam.