Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dec 2010
A stuttering halt is a fantasy here;
as believable as low-budget science fiction.
Let us freeze one and all with violent ambition.

A time of calm is nonexistent here;
ourΒ Β disposal of time is a fruitless conviction.
Let us play the victim of a reckless tradition.

For me, paradise is just a pair of dice:
if we roll them and get lucky,
then society won't **** me.

The odds are painless.
You can trust me;
we won't ever be so lucky.
NBURNS 2010
Written by
Nick Burns  Ash Tree Lane
(Ash Tree Lane)   
550
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems