"enzyme" poems
Lady Macbeth washed her hands
cleaner than Pontius Pilate
with a new improved, bio-enzyme
oxy-bursting, 99.9% germ-scouring
recommended by dermato-logists
scented with rose attar
oils from Arabia
and spermaceti soothing
unguents from long dead whales.
She’s going to the nail bar
for a manicure and application
of semi-permanent, diamond-
tipped, acrylic base-coated
in red blood enamel.
She’ll scratch
and etch rich tattoos
on her husband’s back
with every ****** he will shudder
with pain and delight
He’ll soon forget long, dark nights
bewitched by ghosts and ambition.
© M.L. Emmett
Aug 10, 2015
Aug 10, 2015 at 2:55 AM UTC
A widespread condition
related to nutrition
is lactose intolerance
that is in essence
the inability to digest and assimilate
the milk sugar-lactose-the substrate
that is acted upon by lactase-
the specific enzyme
over a period of time.
This may happen suddenly
and generally
at any age most unexpectedly.
Lactose intolerance
is caused by the absence
of the enzyme lactase
that breaks down lactose
to the simple sugars-
glucose and galactose.
The condition may be
secondary, congenital,
or developmental.
Secondary lactose intolerance
invariably has its occurrence
related to a gastrointestinal infection
and its disappearance
is linked to the causative factor’s correction.
This type of intolerance-
(certainly a nuisance)
is reversible
if we are a bit careful.
Congenital lactose intolerance,
an inherited form of intolerance,
is a rare genetic abnormality
that one can unearth
soon after an infant’s birth.
This need not cause any fear
as it lasts only half a year.
Developmental lactose intolerance
also known as primary intolerance
is one wherein the enzyme synthesis
is progressively less
during childhood
and this persists into adulthood.
Gita Ashok
24/10/2011, 2 pm
Oct 24, 2011
Oct 24, 2011 at 4:58 AM UTC
you're that biological catalyst that alters, speeds up (our) reactions.
with you, the fastened heartbeats, the holding of hands, the chaste kisses--
they all sped up.
with a snap, you've gotten me,
all feverish affections strong and thick.
you've got me, got me!
i am that substrate bound,
bound to your tantalizing active site.
what possessed me to persist staying there,
i'll never find out.
but i forgot, you're an enzyme,
and enzymes never change its form
when they've altered its substrate.
and silly as i was,
pitiful little substrate,
reduced to that of a broken form,
in just a snap, snap!
Nov 24, 2013
Nov 24, 2013 at 4:16 AM UTC
I sold smack on a playground today
biding time to scrounge the rent--
Two months ago I had never even seen the stuff.
I'd never procured it for personal use,
let alone sold it.
Now I'm a full-time pusher of prescriptions
for problems that can't be cured,
a modern-day snake-oil salesmen
schlepping panaceas for every conceivable ill.
*Trying to cope with depression?
This'll give you a shot in the arm!
Your boyfriend just broke your heart
mere weeks after breaking your *****
Here's a ***** that you can depend on*...
I thought I was better than this,
but who can afford scruples
with bills to pay?
Internally
I struggle to compete
with people who would never deign to take note of me.
My revenge is in undermining their immaculate lives,
a pill-peddling Socrates
keeping creditors at bay.
I'd always envisioned being someone's hero--
at least being remembered for an act of creation.
Instead I'm an enzyme for eradication.
A cancer cell at best--
A ****** wrecking ball.
One day I woke up a sidekick
to a heroine that's never saved anyone...
Sep 21, 2012
Sep 21, 2012 at 12:53 AM UTC
RNA or DNA polymerase, an enzyme, protein, attracted to
promoter molecules in the polypeptide chain causing a zipper
motion and transcription of the code, a duplication of codons,
introns and exons, and so it goes, sharing and unsharing electrons.
These attractions and repulsions, coming near and going far
in nanounits or light years, fail to explain things permanently
but make possible the technology to live long and well, with
personality.
It is a form of governance, the governance of elements, elements are
now
apparently our gods. Learn all you can about their laws, their names,
their needs, read their poems. Only the mentally unusually sound
would,
given this knowledge, agree to the process of mitosis and fertilization.
However,
organisms go round then senseless via involuntary respiration.
Therefore, Pilot Oh Pilot Me.
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 10:56 AM UTC
I doubt the humble caterpillar
has any premonition
of the glory that awaits
on her impending coronation day.
Newly hatched, she meanders
over leaves and stalks, binging on the crawl,
in quest of the perfect hanging leaf.
Then suddenly metamorphosis
and silk is everywhere
wrapping her up like Nefertiti -
her insides churned into enzyme soup
a new essence in the making.
Shaking, writhing, a bold new self
is emerging deep within -
an orange and black-winged butterfly
waiting for that liberating hour
to shed her crumbling shell
and beat the air with new- found wings.
*July 10, 2015
Jul 10, 2015
Jul 10, 2015 at 3:41 AM UTC
Have you ever had a session that gave you an impression,
Then you formed your discretion,
Which then showed your expression, and at the end of the day,
It documented as a depression that formed rejection?
This rejection then formed an infection
In the enzyme in your stomach called pepsin,
That led to an injection, for your safety and protection.
Did I forget to mention, the medication won’t **** it,
Just gives the disease a suspension?
©
Dec 7, 2009
Dec 7, 2009 at 6:08 PM UTC
Time and Distance was always the recipe for disaster.
These two little words can move mountains of hate. Merely shove them aside.
They can do the same to love. Brush it off like a father will when his kids plead for him to at least look at the menu on the ice cream truck.
Love does not fade as easily as we all wish it could. As you and I wish it would.
Love is a tender flower that needs to be nurtured and be kept in a well lit, well watered garden.
Hate does not fade as easily as we all wish it could. As you and I wish it would.
Hate is a brutal **** that will grow in any garden. It will strangle love of the nutrients that so rightfully belong to it; the tender flower.
Time is a killer, a stone cold killer. It some how manages to find love and destroy it. Time is the Antichrist.
One thinks they can conquer it, when indeed, they cannot.
Distance is an enzyme. Much like the ones found in the human stomach. As everyone knows enzymes are reaction specific. They can only help in one chemical reaction, one minute, tiny reaction.
One thinks they can subdue distance, make it their friend, when indeed, they cannot.
Nov 5, 2012
Nov 5, 2012 at 8:44 PM UTC
The Overdose as Artform:
or
A study on Modern Urban Myth
Stand alone, naked, in-front of your bathroom mirror.
Repeat three times fast:
"Your liver enzyme levels are elevated."
"Your liver enzyme levels are elevated."
"Your liver enzyme levels are elevated."
My ghost will appear behind you,
carrying syringe and stem.
Apr 6, 2016
Apr 6, 2016 at 3:48 PM UTC
Life is a series of demands. Hurry up, perform.
Do your homework, write a paper, oh and read 300 pages,
get in those volunteer hours, grab those lab credentials.
I get busy, caught up in projects and I forget stuff
like dinnertime, peeing before it’s an emergency,
or like calling you - last night.
On vacation I’m unplugged, I’m avoiding focus,
I’m not paying attention, my mind’s wandering.
I’d want you less if it were required by law.
I imagine your huge, brown saucer eyes
exhibiting a wounded, blaming expression and I can’t.
Maybe there’s a biological explanation, yes, that’s it,
I’m missing an enzyme, I have a glandular disorder
that prevents long distance relationships from working.
No, not work - It can’t be work - it should be exciting.
Is it a crime to want some time off from pressure?
I’m not asking for a pony.
Just a sabbatical couple of weeks away from obligations.
I felt so guilty that I went to Karen (Lisa’s mom) about it.
We talked for over an hour, she’s so smart, I love her.
She reminded me about the recent lockdowns
and how years of skyping and remote learning
might affect (dull-down) a long distance romance.
I told her what you said, about my sinatra psyche
and she said although I seem absurdly secure,
I’m probably still figuring things out - and that’s ok.
There’s really no substitute for talking to a mom.
I called you - and left a message - I hope you understand.
I turned my phone off - for now.
Dec 29, 2022
Dec 29, 2022 at 7:15 AM UTC
Procrastination is the thief of time
And that's why I make the most of it when I put together every rhyme
With my words I'm committing a crime
Not satisfied? Then here's a dime
These lines are too bitter, let's add some lime
Be quiet like a mime because I'm
breaking down these words like an enzyme
I'll grime your dignity because I'm sublime
Well I might be exaggerating a little bit
But nevertheless don't fiddle with it
Come here and let me tell you a riddle, sit
No one wants to watch an infidel spit
There's no use being a flagrant hypocrite
So I advise you to just grit your teeth, and quit.
Jul 13, 2015
Jul 13, 2015 at 10:54 AM UTC
The holy cricket has no reason
To hold its last breath for long
For the royal naked bird
Has no other secret to display
Now see, the enzyme of my heart
Has delivered another staff
Without the knowledge of the ducks,
Let the morning stars rain
My pure dews violently
And allow my wet sun rays
To swim rapidly in the air,
Hmm, if the queen of my air
Continues to harden the back
Of this delicate tortoise,
How can my motionless heart
Find a dripping honey like hers?
Today is Thursday,
Yes, today is her soul day
And tilling of her love is forbidden
But can a cloud full of sweet words
Break the chains of my strong passions?
Let my bitter tongue
Remain silent in his cage
And lose not the cowries and the cola also.
© PRINCE NANA ANIN-AGYEI
Email: [email protected]
Apr 8, 2013
Apr 8, 2013 at 6:36 AM UTC
I reside in your stomach, lying here is bliss…getting gnawed on everyday by your attacking pepsin enzyme. I suspect you would not digest me yet, dear Jennor? You sneak. You, I believe have changed me the most, with your knives. You cut and carve me in your pleasure…shaping, moulding me into the person ridiculously typing this myfuck **** today. In return, I’ve done nothing but bleed with you under the cyanide sun. You’ve ordered me to write, of which I obeyed, and forced me into acceptance. You protect me from everything, at a distance, possessively stalking from the shadows. For that I thank you, and I adore you, ever so dastardly. When I am strong enough, I shall protect you too, and be there to save you…I shall infeckt you in my eternity. You claim my soul, locked up for safety …and but of course, our secrets shall stay untold. Smother me, until I am purple and can no longer breathe.
Dec 17, 2010
Dec 17, 2010 at 4:41 AM UTC
are arguments like a paradox?
does one just not compute the others message or emotional language
surely , there - just like languages are vibrations we can not understand but can feel
and perhaps learn to feel them a new , akin to learning a new language .
this would mean that things that are seemingly at first 'taboo' 'secret' 'cult like' 'mystical' especially these things
could just not fit
within my lock , akin to the enzyme molding and shifting shape for only particular proteins
could the human social structure not operate along this natural blue print? since the social structure too , is a part of nature and looking around us - something seems sorely wrong
the violence , well i'm not sure
yet why that is a base instinct but
there is laughter inate too and smiles
so ...
what thinks ye?
of the words is have structured ?
does it make sense? does it resonate?
heck i'd like to know - how many of ya'll is the crazies?
Aug 30, 2013
Aug 30, 2013 at 5:46 AM UTC
[Bilex]
Giovanni on the edge of the window,
have a bad fall; Glory for children; Most violence
is from the love of reading in the Senate;
This is the best partner. you are the one who came
to help; guard, I did not want to burn with joy;
This is my first time around the world and Sports -
Sky Box and Albatross Compatibility,
cups of wine and cognac. or; Radio Wedding
But the wedding. Some of my assignments. All words
Why it is not. and find out how; Read a book on
Wall Street where you can buy a product. other
Restart the application, restart it, in addition.
The radio will be here. take care of it.
And the best way to do that is to Rest. More points
on my own. It is a. Memorial 1, like John Rose;
Perhaps Pavol was the author of radio waves. radio
Wedding Vincebus Water. if you are forbidden
I do not think why - love. I do not know thousands
of people; But it's ready for the winter
temperature of the whole affiliate business
bridge. Alcohol and cups in boxes. or; wedding
ceremony on the radio; Is that so
It seems like it's time for seniors.
If the caretakers have eyes, you will know
all the words. Where education is; New Wall Street
Dutch artist - rich fish - the best house;
even a black ball. Which is the best way
to get more and more of the other
does not. own materials - and Eli stepped
out of the radio. Where iam I n one place about myself?
color; Let's look in the mirror
left, 4 g 2; Female artist and John Rose
in a dark spot in England,
San Pablo-Fb. With radio waves. Radio.
Oct 11, 2018
Oct 11, 2018 at 5:50 AM UTC
Concept:
youlovemeback.
The ingredients of cleanse
make their way
to your house.
There is
a
strobe,
two stones portioned off
a Ziggurat,
a present thing —
like wheels,
a teardrop,
nail clippings.
My father
would trim his nails
and bury them —
as seeds.
Stared
at that ***
all days and evenings.
Monsoons and
summer heat echoed.
Time circled back and forth.
Sometimes,
I would gargle
father’s beer and
spit into the ***
Maybe it needed
Acrid, it needed
Strong. It needed
Disgusting,
Toxic. It wanted
wrong.
I turn 22.
The ***
Disappears. My father
too. Militants
took him away,
or so the chatter goes.
He wore Chinos, sun-dried
eyes, a hat.
Mice ate
the matchsticks
used for kindling.
The Queen Termite
Gave birth to more
hungry little ones
under the sink.
Dark, musty,
collapsing.
Memory, time,
fingertips. Thyme
rhymes
with mime,
I copy my father.
Trims nails.
Plants.
Waters.
Concept:
trytounderstand
This was only the nourish
he could give. It was
a copy of the nourish
his father could give —
Or so
The chatter goes.
Gather the stones.
Get the strobe.
Pound the nail clippings
and
an enzyme flows
Through, like tape recorders whirring
as they wind back to
play recorded confessions
one more time.
Free baptismals
at the church service
for hurried teens.
Free shirts for
the Insufficient.
Free lessons for
the young boy
who can’t read women.
Free at long, long last.
Concept:
fixtheheart
Jan 23, 2018
Jan 23, 2018 at 3:16 AM UTC
Living in the moment
Raises the heartsick soul to converse
With the social enemy of death,
The corrosive, liquid, and curved
Enzyme that is your body makes the
Flaming devils flesh crawl and creep.
Amnesia hits the beast like a mighty
Iron axe to the head, you approach the
Gurgling monstrosity that lay on the floor,
You approach with a weary eye, fear and
Courage all at once. All of the
Candles around the large round podium go out at
Once, once the devil had died. You had just
killed the Anti-Christ! Bodies of reaped
Souls cradle the dead flesh and shriek
And scream in agony for their rulers death.
You stand before them and let out a
Potent, barbaric, yawlp. The demons spawn
Settle and release their final screeches,
You...have...brought...down...HELL!!!
Jan 24, 2016
Jan 24, 2016 at 1:27 AM UTC
I miss seeing you smile.
To me it seemed that you laughed and kissed me for everything, but it was probably a mistaken impression, a
result of shock!
wonder!
Could you imagine my surprise,
how it could be unexpected?
How often is the soul’s desire met?
I can recall not ever, ne’er, near naught
save in amniotic baptism, had every
object subject—every ancient tissue
attended by an enzyme—every ray of
sun snuck between the blouse’s buttons,
around my mother’s ******* and
divined upon me was let there been.
I cut myself following consciousness
with my longest fingernail, did laugh
too convulsed, tickled by light did induce my birth;
I cried (they’ll confirm this), I
wept to rob my mother herself, so it seemed,
inhaled the endless time and limitless space.
You can imagine my surprise then
with your covered mouth at my joke.
To me it seemed as if I had body again, hadn’t had a hand to grasp, hadn’t a hand with to grasp; then,
like had putty-gilded muscles earthed
unearthed, did.
Have you ever seen creation?—
well, yes, of course, it did not except you.
As close to ex nihilo as your patience can manage
you would have seen the time and space
repel each other in a nail’s length
of chaos, Fiat Vita, about which there’s little to be said.
My patience breaks in breath, Fiat Lux: when
time and space colors the light and refracts
the matrix and gives fire to my soul for a body.
Rilke writes, “Every Angel is terror,” which we
love, “because it calmly disdains to destroy us.”
I know! I know! I bite my nails penitent still.
And my patience does extend yet further, still within;
before my birth following it:
Look! I can open you this door,
give you that,
carry you thus far,
lead you here,
can reach your smiling mouth
with a terrorized will to kiss withal!
I can endure as the “arrow endures the bow”;
as all matter collapses upon itself in effort to grasp itself,
so it does to grasp all itself in one grand handful;
as atrophy takes me from you as quickly as I give you it,
I am surprised to find that I have retained all of you;
not expecting that you might have hid me, too, where
I would overlook, where only you could go, where
the light silhouettes, for me can just stop breathing.
I can see without patience—as much as light allows
and just as long.
Mar 21, 2012
Mar 21, 2012 at 8:57 AM UTC
with him included? the devil's dozen, or
the 13 -
then the hours of Horus:
noon - Simon Peter -
later with covenant
of the hour: holy spirit,
and the minute hand: son
and the second hand: the father
oh quiet the trinity handful,
given year zero -
hours 12 through to 1
Andrew, James, John, Philip, Bartholomew,
Thomas, Matthew, James, Thaddeus, Simon, Judas
s / p.
s. a.
θ. j.
j. Δ j.
m. p.
b.
look at the ******* clock! something's awry!
Simon peter 12
Andrew 13
James 14
John 15 (3 a.m. / p.m.)
Philip 16
Bartholomew 17 (5 p.m.)
Thomas 18 (six)
Matthew 19 (seven)
James (ibn Alφaeus) 20 (eight)
"θ" (nine),
Simon K9'ite - ten
Iscariot - eleven - clocks are wrong...
the year 0 a.d. is based on this,
twelve disciples, twelve hours a.m. / a.d.
and v.
p.m. / b.c.,
hence the trinity / Δ -
an hour for the holy spirit to catch on,
son monetises the minutes
and the father being omnipresent understands within
seconds...
but i was aiming to do justice to the harvest missed
last year, i was intending to make wine;
hence the list of ingredients,
a) wine yeast;
b) yeast nutrient:
diammonium phosphate,
magnesium sulphate, nicotinic acid, magnesium carbonate,
thiamine hydrochloride, zinc sulphate, ferrous
ammonium sulphate, biotin;
c) pectolase:
pectinase enzyme, dextrose monohydrate;
d) bruclens cleaner / steriliser:
sodium percarbonate;
e) fine fining A: silica sol,
" B: chitosan (derived from crab and shrimp
shells, contains sodium metabisulphite)
f) two months' worth of patience.
it's that time of the year where you make wine
(just a little bush, enough for 12 bottles) -
and gestapo a curry -
a tarka dhal
and a kheralan chicken with coconut milk...
i love when **** decays, it tastes better than
when **** blossoms and isn't exactly edible
but merely colourful.
Oct 17, 2016
Oct 17, 2016 at 10:17 PM UTC
It's a blood bath again
one that's taking place after a long time
Both sides have a strong army
and the clocks ticking like a powerful enzyme
Men, women and children;
all are going to have participated
This fight's not been influenced
no one has been forcefully stipulated
I guess that's the only beauty here
everyone's fighting for their blood
The very same blood which in two days
will have caused a huge flood
They're gonna fight to the end
no one's gonna back out
They're gonna let you leave once you're in
no matter how much you shout
It may go on for days, it may go one for months
depending how many are willing to stake their lives
So don't being bring guns, you'll run outta amo
just bring your guts...and yeah bring more knives....
Feb 12, 2015
Feb 12, 2015 at 6:20 AM UTC
There was a day I spilled milk
Atop my head and did not cry
Cheating myself; a bet to bilk
Sun soured and wondered why?
For I had every reason, but not a single sigh
Laughing in my stinking curds
I splashed atop a dimpled rock
Feeling not even slightly absurd
Frolicking in warm milky frock
Just an act; some profound cheesy schlock
Representational of bacterium
Justification for odd immunity
There fermented in midday sun
Not feeling part any community
After all, this land of opportunity
In symbolic essence I did lay
Coagulating a rotten smell
“No poetic license,” one might say
Passer-by exclaiming, “What the hell?”
I allegorical enzyme, thus began to jell
Apr 27, 2016
Apr 27, 2016 at 1:38 PM UTC
When all the dust has blown
By all the rust be grown
Change the scene for once more;
Leaf in the wind, and spore.
An infinitesimal seed
So hapless and inconceivable,
That emptiness of heart
Germinates of a green new start.
A negligible bacterium
To the unforeseen eye
Effervesce, bloom and spume!
Company will soon greet you!
O embrace the sobering ground,
'Tis here just like you found.
All the resources will draw nigh,
'Twas in you all this time!
All need words of encouragement,
Some protein and enzyme.
Rest, reactants, in thy calm tent,
Get some shut eye to see rhyme.
But ever haunted of the past
Should the even'n empire return(1)
See a world in a grain of sand(2),
But never Heaven on this land.
Lo the booms and the busts!
Lo expansions and recessions!
Lo the mad and the sad!
Lo multitudes and solitudes!
O humanity I love you!(3)
How generations trapp'd
That live in cells within, imbued
To so idly stay rapt.
But to their good fortune, adapt!
You shall be absolved
Walking with peace as every stepp'd(4),
The diplomat endow'd
Alas! A new variety!
With such resilience
In ev'ry zone, ev'ry climate
Here to live, here to please!
Jan 27, 2016
Jan 27, 2016 at 6:30 PM UTC
THE BULLY
They kicked her like she were marbles,
They thought, she may enjoy it,
it was all a bit of fun.
Well they enjoyed it anyway.
There were whispers hanging on the grape vines,
But, the teachers never heard the words,
or maybe didn't listen.
As vipers they spat poison,
along the buzzing gossip lanterns,
fuelled up by the cruelty.
One and one and one made nine,
as the rumour mongers, spun their yarns.
Lucy, she said her clothes were cheap,
she looked just like a *****
they said.
Anna laughed at her,
at the same time as she watched her weep.
Karen kicked a little more.
Not an ounce of conscience was displayed,
Helena, she led the ring of the *******
the cheerleader for her victims distress.
What nobody knew was that,
Helena,
Helena,she was a victim too,
A victim of her mother's hand,
Daddy was a raggedy drunk,
who beat her black and blue,
Her culture one of cruelty,
was her catharsis,
A toxic enzyme.
Made her life much easier,
when she could dish the dirt,
When someone else was being hurt,
she was the leader of the girl's brigade,
it made her feel important,
she mattered for once.
for the first time in her travesty of life.
Helena was the victim too,
The victim of vicious circumstance!
(C) Livvi
Aug 29, 2014
Aug 29, 2014 at 4:45 AM UTC
Another brand new day, a chance to start again
But if i did so then I'd have to discard all this pain
And as much as it pains me to hold it like so,
Without this experience I'd have nada to show
No stories to tell, no stories to share
No stories from drunken lips spilled without a care
You want to know the truth of it, the world is often cold
And those among us oftentimes succumb to icy holds
I've done so too, dragging my feet
Every day was an encore, every hour on repeat
So the days came, and so too they left
Nothing but a hollow sorrow leaking through my chest
Porcelain became my actions, stone become my face
A facade for my every move, a wolf with naught to chase
The darkness in the skies became the darkness in my eyes
As the darkness in the night became the darkness held inside
Shadows grew longer, so too did my inaction
An enzyme gone cold, with minimal reaction
This lethargy that enveloped every thought that crossed my mind
I crossed off all the pain and laughed, urged the struggles to hide
So struggle i did, so exhausted i grew
A plant of my previous self, all i did was grow roots
Stuck into the Earth with no intention to leave
I found myself worthless, this became my belief
And when i crossed out all my mistakes
These actions shown through carelessness made
An S.O.S called for, a flare launched in the sky
Shining ever brighter than the stars that lit the night
Uprooted and carried, burden i felt
Looking at my limbs satisfied with damage dealt
But hungrily lust for more, so more and more i drew
My laughter marked upon my arms in delirium renewed
Every step and every breath has pushed me off the edge
Until i fell and climbed back up, learned to walk again
My funambulism established, my lifetime the ropes
That once upon a time wound its way around to choke
With every moment left behind, my resolve grows evermore
Mentally i mark myself rather than count a bladed score
And when I've had enough, I'll not give up no more
I have a divine partner whom i love to my very core
And so I'll drag myself upright, so that i die with dignity
And make every day feel like a brand new beginning
Forgive my troubled actions, wish away my pain
Wash away these scars, and let us start again
Oct 24, 2017
Oct 24, 2017 at 5:05 AM UTC
4/5/2019
In the middle of my transgression,
That trap I’ve fallen in before,
I cry out with desperation,
And I find an open door.
Could it have been there the whole time?
When there seems to be no progression,
It seems I can’t bear it any longer.
Where is the inert deliberation?
Somehow I must ignore the anger,
But how can I find good in the grime?
All I can see: my inward aggression!
That fuse always burning shorter,
Only accomplishing obliteration.
As I make myself a martyr,
I am sacrificed for an unknown crime.
Though my face gains new expression,
New is just another word for darker.
Inward digs the outward oppression,
It must die, but never can I conquer.
Death bells don’t seem to chime.
My focus is always my impression,
I exist to make me look better.
If it were up to my discretion,
All would fall into disorder.
Does it ever end, this eternal climb?
My story now in compression,
I couldn’t resist anymore.
My biggest fears now in suppression,
The door is the way out. Therefore,
Step though, I must. It’s showtime.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This is the end of all my repression!
All of me spilled on the floor!
There is no regression!
All of me, anyone can explore!
This exposed feeling is not sublime!
That open door, a misimpression?
Expectation missed, take it away, I implore!
My perspective, it doesn’t freshen,
My new life, why for it do I deplore?
Still I desire to go backwards everytime.
Is Your will bent for my depression?
Is Your love just folklore?
No! Doubt is sadly my profession,
Thank You for all that You restore,
You forgive my idiotic paradigm.
Maybe this was all to get my attention.
Though my soul feels sore,
I know I’m in a better position.
You’ve won, forget the score,
Although over time I worked overtime.
Results result from action,
What’s this all for?
Near extinction, is my confession,
But I’m no longer like that dinosaur.
I’m running out of words to rhyme.
In the end, I made the right decision,
It’s all so much more,
I’m thankful for my Implosion,
There’s less of me than before,
With you in side as my enzyme.
Apr 25, 2019
Apr 25, 2019 at 4:28 PM UTC