Remembrance of a bad memory is
The only memory he will remember.
His mind is always racing over all of
These atrocities, not one pleasing,
His cause is fault by familiar faces.
Trying to steal his touch from
Old and dusty photographs,
Four stone walls trap suffocated
Screams of a doted past,
Flash of silver and red, a mélange
Of animalistic fervour and love.
The chalk will wear thin some day,
Soon he'll lose track of pure reality,
Forgetting is obliged but is it a cure?
The gruel splattering on the plates,
Dimmer becomes his pure identity.
Eyes scrunch, blood-red shadow,
Not enough to hide a past
Which is screaming obscenities
Within him, even Houdini would
Struggle to free himself from these
Self inflicted knots.
Lying on stone bed, comfort from
Dropping so high to places so low.
The boots that kicked his child’s soul,
Battered tidily into empty cars boot.
His son's wounds left torturing mind.
The appropriate father
Lying dead under his thinning
Crown, a forest of follicles
Giving way to exasperation,
Remorse and a manic lust for
Changing history.
Cleansing red drips from his palm,
Constant stains conspiring in mind.
The pre maternal shatters fear in tear,
No love left to bail the blood thirst.
Maybe if he could love lucks lie, then
He may glimpse a cooler freedom.
Hath he not heard the plea
Of kin, fragility wavering
In the shadow of a beast,
Tis' he who peeled back his
Own flesh to see nothing but
Blood and yesterday's regret.
The bliss of fine white hairs fall top,
Blisters burning from the foul cycle.
Flickers of mellow memories save a
Soul to reconsider his own judgment.
But time was arch from the first stab
Into the child, mercy rejects his grief.
Former clown's face steals
Sorrow from his slashed canvas,
And ***** stained swinging shadow
Cannot trip the hollow child with
Black eyes, who is forever whispering
Into his ear, “Why, Daddy?”
Feb 9, 2014
Feb 9, 2014 at 6:51 AM UTC
Remembrance of a bad memory is
The only memory he will remember.
His mind is always racing over all of
These atrocities, not one pleasing,
His cause is fault by familiar faces.
Trying to steal his touch from
Old and dusty photographs,
Four stone walls trap suffocated
Screams of a doted past,
Flash of silver and red, a mélange
Of animalistic fervour and love.
The chalk will wear thin some day,
Soon he'll lose track of pure reality,
Forgetting is obliged but is it a cure?
The gruel splattering on the plates,
Dimmer becomes his pure identity.
Eyes scrunch, blood-red shadow,
Not enough to hide a past
Which is screaming obscenities
Within him, even Houdini would
Struggle to free himself from these
Self inflicted knots.
Lying on stone bed, comfort from
Dropping so high to places so low.
The boots that kicked his child’s soul,
Battered tidily into empty cars boot.
His son's wounds left torturing mind.
The appropriate father
Lying dead under his thinning
Crown, a forest of follicles
Giving way to exasperation,
Remorse and a manic lust for
Changing history.
Cleansing red drips from his palm,
Constant stains conspiring in mind.
The pre maternal shatters fear in tear,
No love left to bail the blood thirst.
Maybe if he could love lucks lie, then
He may glimpse a cooler freedom.
Hath he not heard the plea
Of kin, fragility wavering
In the shadow of a beast,
Tis' he who peeled back his
Own flesh to see nothing but
Blood and yesterday's regret.
The bliss of fine white hairs fall top,
Blisters burning from the foul cycle.
Flickers of mellow memories save a
Soul to reconsider his own judgment.
But time was arch from the first stab
Into the child, mercy rejects his grief.
Former clown's face steals
Sorrow from his slashed canvas,
And ***** stained swinging shadow
Cannot trip the hollow child with
Black eyes, who is forever whispering
Into his ear, “Why, Daddy?”
A collaboration between BoyGaskell and LewisHugo.
Request permission to use this poem