"warnings" poems
I'd like to think that she's thinking:
"How far have I fallen?"
As she sits on the corner of her bed,
Listening to the soft buzz of his battery-powered toothbrush.
I imagine her,
Running her fingers through her clumsy, coagulated hair.
Glancing at her chipped, crimson toe nails,
Then looking to her class ring,
Made entirely of imitation ingredients,
Wondering when is the proper time to trash it.
When she was still a friend of mine,
I never saw her wear make up,
I never saw her show off in tight jeans
or low-cut tees.
But as he spews the toothpaste into the sink,
Skinny jeans lay tussled on the floor,
Next to the side door
that leads to his sister's side room.
The make up she wears
is from the night before.
It's skewed and shows evidence of running,
Like a wasted watercolor.
I'd like to think he isn't that handsome,
And that he's obsessed with Paul Walker.
I'd like to think when he re-enters the room,
He's in grey sweatpants,
He's wearing a black tank top,
With a Confederate flag backdrop,
With two barely dressed babes looking ******
in the foreground.
His hair, unwashed and greasy.
He rubs his belly,
And bears an idiot grin
on his face.
Looking like he just learned how to smile
at this pace.
"Did it feel good?"
feel good.
After he asks, he scans her body,
Beginning at those crimson toes,
And Ending at that clumsy hair.
Every second he scans,
He still wears that drawn-on
Idiot grin.
I'd like to think at this point she thinks of me.
Of my warnings and prophesy.
Her eyes start at the chipped toe nails,
Course over her tanning bed-inspired legs.
And finally reach the only thing she has on,
A t-shirt that belongs to his sister.
A t-shirt, when given by him,
It was mentioned, "thanks, mister".
Though she didn't satisfy all his redneck intentions,
During last night's expedition.
He still paid her back with a morning
one-sided session.
"It felt good" she says.
In reference to the ten minute **********
When her body was strummed and plucked,
Underneath his sister's Terri Clark T-shirt.
As she sits in the filth and the ****** fallout,
On a bed that is six days *****
While he is grinning,
Being everything but wordy.
I'd like to think she's thinking:
"How far have I fallen?"
Jun 4, 2010
Jun 4, 2010 at 10:31 PM UTC
ground zero
i become aware of boundaries
i am a dog chasing cars
i sing your voicemail to sleep
there are no surgeon general warnings
to tell me that
*the objects in the mirror
are more depressed than they appear*
so how do i tell you
that there are parts of my life
that move slower
without you in them?
or that i look for you every day
in emails & unanswered calls
in the sunrises
i didn't choose to be awake to watch
that i sometimes still stare at doorways hoping you would walk through them
stage 1 you tell your new lover you've got a splinter and they pull the sound of your body falling asleep on mine out of your fingertip
stage 2 your new lover says something at dinner that makes you choke so they call 911 & the paramedics do the hymleich not knowing you would ***** our promises all over the the restaurant
stage 3 your new lover surprises you by cleaning the house & washes the shirt you kept next to the bed, not knowing it was the last thing you had that smelled like me
after
people always ask
what was loving her like?
after a really long silence
i just say
"it must be nice"
but i never say
it's watching paint dry
i never say
it's a window seat in hell
i don't tell anyone
about the dreams
where i am reading you
bedtime stories
each one is a different way you die
& every time i can never save you
dreams where what i think
are angels in my bedroom
are just homeless versions
of myself you never loved
i have dreams
where i pay someone to shoot me
just to see if you would cry
just to see
if you would cradle my body
i don't tell people
that loving you is like
playing piano
for someone who can't hear
that it's hitting repeat
on my favorite song
& forgetting the words
every time it starts over
that it's finding out
there's no milk after you already
poured yourself a bowl of cereal
it's getting locked in the dark
& being told to
look on the bright side
that loving you is like
being reminded of what it felt like
the first time
you accidentally let go
of a balloon as a child
it's drowning without the water
it's the feeling you get
when you start to dance
& the song ends
Mar 21, 2015
Mar 21, 2015 at 3:30 PM UTC
Is it true what people say
did the Earth have trees
and oceans
did life run free
for as far as the eye could see.
Is it true what people say
did Humans **** animals for fun
pollute the air they needed,
did no one listen to the warnings
did no one stop them.
Is it true what people say
did we leave Earth
because we killed it?
Apr 29, 2015
Apr 29, 2015 at 10:42 PM UTC
Flap Flap goes the Flappy Bird
Was this the right choice?
Seeing warnings on twitter
Thinking they're all quitters
Thinking you're better
But in reality, you're just as equal as them.
But as the day passes...
Flap Flap goes the Flappy Bird
Seeing your friends play, you start multiplying
Not even touching a pipe and dying
You're on the floor, you're crying
Pressing start over and over again and trying
Knowing your high score is low and start lying
because you know you ****
But as the day passes...
Flap Flap goes the Flappy Bird
Questions going through your mind
"Why did I die?"
"Did I really touch a pipe?"
"Why do iPhone users only have day while Android have both day and night?"
"Why is it slower on other phones?"
"How do you get past 20?"
"Why do I keep dying?"
"Why do Android users have other colors?"
But the question you should be asking is...
"Am I going mad?"
But as the day passes...
Flap Flap goes the Flappy Bird
Now, the resolution.
Stop the addiction.
Press that "x"
You know its for the greater good.
I know YOU feel the ANGER whenever you die.
You don't wanna risk throwing your phone for that.
Take my advice. DO IT.
Before it ruins your life.
But as the day passes...
You can't.
You can't.
You can't.
Its too late.
Flappy Bird is now part of life.
Even though the anger
The anger that feels like your chest being stabbed by a knife
Hurts you so much
Deep inside you get a little happy...
Knowing somewhere in the world someone trying the same game
Got less than you.
Less than 3, 2, or 1.
And because of this you want to beat more people who **** more than you.
And this should be an achievement
You, state your name, got YOUR own high score.
YOU did it
YOU made it to one pipe or even more.
And if you didn't
Well ***** for you
But as the day passes...
Flap Flap goes the Flappy Bird
Jan 29, 2014
Jan 29, 2014 at 8:30 AM UTC
Well great goodness, where on Earth do I start?
The Garden of Eden … or the bottom of my heart?
How can I make this as honest and heartfelt as I can?
How would I share with every woman in the world, the emotions of every man?
Yes, we hold them in. It's about pride. It's about standing tough.
But you'd really not have us any other way … you love to polish what's rough.
And we really love you, make no mistake, to you we are forever beholden.
We'll not forget those meals and those band aides and all those clothes gently folden.
You taught us to tie our shoes and look after our sisters and brothers.
And that unless we are standing for something correct, we must always be kind to others.
From you we learned that women are our partners, other halves and mothers-to-be.
Which leads my poem in another direction … as I continue my praises with glee.
Our wives took up where our mothers left off and carry our hearts in their hands.
They made us soup when sick, bore us amazing children and walked beside us in the sand.
They undressed us when drunk, both for fun and when it was needed.
And stood understanding when we failed miserably, as their warnings went blindly unheeded.
No matter our place in failure, glory or fame, they were always standing by our side.
No matter our outfit, five o'clock shadow, even our beer belly …
they always stand there with pride.
And in the brave new age, where we all live, they now do things so amazing.
They race cars, cure diseases, head up companies and set many trails a blazing!
What would we do without these women from our birth to our end of days?
How do we love them, now and forever?
You simply can't count the ways!
Mar 7, 2018
Mar 7, 2018 at 4:26 PM UTC
We live in a time of uncertainty
No jobs
Climate change
Mass killings
warnings of pandemics
Where is our utopia
where is our heaven on Earth
1900's we had
San Fransisco's earthquake
McKinley was assassinated
First Nobel prize
The Tunguska Event
nothing as changed in my eyes
1910's we had
Spanish flu
The sinking of the unsinkable ship, the Titanic
and World War 1
What else is needed to say about this decade
nothing changed as the human race lived on
1920's we had
Discovery of penicillin
The great depression
and prohibition
1930's we had
Bonnie and Clyde
Hindenburg disaster
Discovery of Pluto
Al Capone imprisoned
1940's we had
World War 2
Mount Rushmore completed
Big bang theory formulated
Israel founded
Nothing changed but who knew
1950's we had
Castro becomes Dictator of Cuba
Laika the dog goes into space
Korean War began
History never changed and neither will the Human Race
1960's we had
The rise of the Berlin wall
First man on the moon
Vietnam War
Nothing changed and won't any time soon
1970's we had
First test tube baby
Tangshan Earthquake
Kent state shootings
Elvis died
1980's we had
Chernobyl
Tiananmen square massacre
Exxon oil spill
Nothing changed and never will
1990's we had
Oklahoma city bombing
Princess Diana died
Columbine massacre
World Trade Center bombed
End of the Cold War
2000's we had
Hurricane Katrina
Pluto reclassified
Obama elected
September 11th
2010's we had
Haiti Earthquake
Japan Earthquake
Bin Laden killed
BP oil spill
England riots
Brazil riots
China banned time travel.
We're only 4 years in.
**** sapiens are nearly 200,000 years old
nothing changed
and never will
Jun 8, 2014
Jun 8, 2014 at 6:07 AM UTC
The Radio is turned up loud
And we're all just singing along
With the windows down
We don't know where we're going
Just off into the future
To chase our dreams elsewhere
Were young and were dumb
Couldn't care less to listen
To the warnings our parents gave us
Then in the blink of an eye
All our life is flashing
Like the headlights we didn't see
In a moment caught in a car crash
All the radio plays
Is the silence of our beating hearts
Sep 28, 2014
Sep 28, 2014 at 8:59 PM UTC
Crazy passion fast deep soul kiss warnings word breathe reckless love devastated desk art struggle pinstripe attempts drunk ghost lost wind beauty hunger soul smile elegance latte knowing containment bond ink shallow identity measure chaos stumbling darling life dance frenzy sweat hole paper haunted only dreams ****** vandalized scars Achilles proceedings bare deep still pain inside lied courts darkness wind step empty rocky soul whisper eyes alone wrapped inside Athens love smile abuse truth lies time mind bungalow knowing liar violated Pandora’s entanglement flashbacks ****** self-preservation private suit weakness baklava hide lips ******* played deserve hold earth destruction haunted coffin judgment dreams hands eternity sleep sunset lips hidden kissed desire champagne stars taint lovers fallen what **** PR glistening intense echoes seeing taste depth care finally beach rolling salt binding heat lost quietly resumed park come believe myself arms world you skin love stranger now
Sep 17, 2013
Sep 17, 2013 at 12:43 PM UTC
by
rgpage
hollow now my world has grown
with age that time has ****** on me.
from carefree childhood days i'd known,
from days of climbing in a tree.
from summer sunlit mornings
from sundays in the park.
i didn't see time's warnings
or see the sun grow dark.
i didn't see the stranger
who followed me one day.
i didn't sense the danger
as i went off to play.
with eager youth i left from home
the world was my shell.
i didn't see the stranger
who'd lead me to my hell.
i'd lifted weights with youthful ease
these weights now known as life.
did what i wanted as i pleased;
i took myself a wife.
and with my wife we had a child
we had a baby boy.
with carefree sundays in the park
he filled our lives with joy.
we watched his life as he grew strong
'til off to war he went.
he told his mom, "it won't be long
until my journey's spent."
and as his ship pulled from the pier
i saw the stranger's face.
with deep set eyes he blankly starred,
he seemed so out of place.
i felt as if i'd known this man
had known him all my life.
in parks where as a youth i ran
and when i met my wife.
it wasn't long our son had gone
my wife had passed away.
and in the war he followed her
just six months to the day.
old and lonely now i sit
and watch the children play.
on carefree sundays in the park
until that final day.
a day in which the stranger comes
and takes me to my rest.
to my loving wife and son
upon my final breath.
Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 9:19 AM UTC
Hey
I’m sorry if I interrupted your class with text messages
because you hate putting your phone on silent
it’s just that I should be there with you
laughing at your confused faces during Calculus I and
staring at your look of sheer concentration during Creative Writing
You were always the poet, not me
But it’s 1pm and I’m stuck in Calculus with someone else as my partner
who doesn't get nearly as confused as you and puts me to shame
which ****** me off because you would never correct me in Calculus
and so I can’t help but wonder who your new partner is
Is she smarter
Is she funnier
Do you quote Shakespeare to her like you did to me?
Is she better than me?
There’s no doubt that a. I ******* it all up and that b. you’ll move on from me
because you were always the popular one, I was the antisocial outcast that most people barely
tolerated
For some unknown reason you decided to become my friend that faithful day in
Calculus I
and ever since then you became my 3am conversations and midnight laugh
I depended on you much more than you did on me
I cared so much more
and maybe that was my fatal flaw
because if I hadn't cared so much
then maybe I wouldn't feel like screaming and throwing my partner’s textbook
at the teacher
but I did
I cared too much; against all warnings not to and now I’m wrecked
then again, I always was in a way
I just didn't know it
You told me that it didn't matter
that they couldn't separate us; no matter what
that you would never let me go
and you kept your promise
but I can’t keep mine
The words “I’m sorry”
come to my head
but those aren't the right words
because I’m more than sorry
I’m bleeding
I’m crying
I’m devastated
I’m torn
I’m broken
and perhaps that’s why I can’t keep my
Okay?Okay promise to you
because no, I am not okay
and you deserve so much more
and this is not okay
me lying to you through a computer screen is
not okay
me putting my gashes of regret on my arm is
not okay
me making you wait only for you to find a fraction of the girl I was is
not okay
and that is why
today during Calculus I
I will finish this ****** poem
and excuse myself and go to the girls’ bathroom
and cry my eyes out after sending this to you
I should end this with a ‘goodbye’
because there’s no use giving you false hope
but I can’t bring myself to end there
so I’ll just say something
and hope that you still remember what it means
P.S. I’ll always love you
(h.l.)
Sep 22, 2014
Sep 22, 2014 at 6:52 PM UTC
Only Love
It began as a love story
Crazy days with you
Crazy days of faith, love, passion
We grew so close so fast
You said we were soul mates for life
I lost my world to you
I trusted you with my deepest thoughts
Most intimate moments
My future
Our future
Bonded with Artfetch
The future of art
We would make it together
A global player
Unwavering faith
In the chorus of warnings
I battled your place with me
Bold and revolutionary
No one would take this away from us
But then you did
You took it away
Without a word
You left me in a haze
Took my breath away
Your force so strong
Chaos controlled my mind
The lie so real
My passion abused
Reckless abandonment
My faith, my love, my passion
You did not face me
You left me with nothing
My life shattered
I wonder through my Art
Profoundly
A part of my life
For the delights and hopes of life
Seeing in them memories of intimate times
Calming my fears
My sadness
Evoking as only art can do
The spirit in me to live again
I no longer care
Why
I got lost in your deceit
In your ****** up mind
Why
You hunted me down
And played me as a game
Why
You abused my passion
My life
You crushed my soul,
I sit at my desk and find my dignity
My strength
I look around and see what I nearly lost
Artfetch the mystery of my life without which
I could not carry on
No more Crazy Days living your lie
A resounding realisation
No soul in you
I continue
To live my dream
So as I sum this up
Go listen to our song
Remember in your heart
I gave you my heart and soul, my mind and body
My life
I believed in you
I am wishing for you to stay strong
Wish upon every star you see
And if its meant to be it will come true…
No more Crazy Days with You
Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 6:25 AM UTC
Another silent mid-Fall afternoon
Icy raindrops slash into my neck
The forecast calls for falling thumbtacks soon
One thin umbrella folding
Just 18 feet to the front step
With champagne acquainted
But forgot how to sip it
I slurp it down, eager,
'til I sit soaked and dripping
In time, fevered minds
will lower ears made for hearing
under waves of migraines
as mighty storm fronts are nearing
So I close down the bars and stumble home under awnings
Just to search for your name among newspaper cuttings
I've read the whole issue
and I've frowned over headlines
put it down
Now, soaked or dry, I've got only time
I've wasted so much of it losing my mind
I'm blind in the rain that now sticks in my hide
and they were right--
The forecast called for this squall to last all night
Another lonely mid-Fall morning walk
I follow gangs of specters in their steps
And, in the crunching gravel, ghosts will talk
November winds come howling
The second I leave my front step
The flavor's familiar
It comes back every morning,
when sunlight and sparrows
ignore tornado warnings
So the gales pick up strength
and a small bird's bones are hollow
The clouds lay oceans down
setting many sips to swallow
"So goodnight." I depart, but circle back in my wanderings
I'll always wind up here--shaky, ash-faced and yawning
I've read this before
it's printed on poor paper
in red ink
I can't say why I'm still walking by
Those other front doorsteps that I never try
The thick thumbtack rain stopped but I can't stay dry
the ghosts were right--
But if I find your name I might stop by.
Oct 26, 2012
Oct 26, 2012 at 7:09 PM UTC
maturity admired exaggerated by far
assumed mutual care
me, stepped on Satans tail
ignoring elder warnings
believing Satans whispers
building, dreaming forging forever happiness on a whisper, sweat whisper
i enjoyed the dripping yellow whisper
smooth clear honey, flowed
my deity please remember me think me
i Begg for my soul, please mercy
please release my soul
ties that bind, please destroy
by faith alone, a righteous prayer
my redeemer lives
standing on faiths shoulder, my enemies crumble and fall
father please forgive an ignorant youth no more
old spit out toy, emotionless
the road is hard, please carry me
by faith alone, by faith alone
Mar 4, 2013
Mar 4, 2013 at 8:32 AM UTC
Parallel tremors follow your heavy footsteps through the moss that carpets a maze of tired oak. Solemn warnings calcify soft thoughts and point you at the coal on the horizon. Its splinterglow peeks hot squints through the arboreal tangle. Topaz streams convene and braid themselves around your spine. The stones in the riverbed grow smoother and each becomes a grain of sand. You let the sand console your roots as you curl your toes and fall asleep.
Mar 15, 2013
Mar 15, 2013 at 6:58 PM UTC
the moulding unseen centre of the Earth
fire and brimstone spells of witches
all not to be taken that serious swept
ignore under the carpet at your peril
Jul 19, 2014
Jul 19, 2014 at 2:34 PM UTC
Happy Valentines Day
If Venus child
Come loves melody sing
I shall break the bow
And slash the string
If he dare to infect me
Trick my heart into desire
Seasoned on a spit he will be
Roasted in a blazing fire
Conniving
Whisper sweet nothings in my ear
Tear off his wings
Turn my eyes from his tears
Not by the all the gods decree
Will I commit my love to another
Binding his mischievous hands
Return him swiftly to his mother
My warnings are clear
Unheeded
Towards me he point the arrow
His last sweet breath
This cherub shall inhale
Never more see the morrow
This poem is copyrighted and stored in author base. All material subject to Copyright Infringement laws
Section 512(c)(3) of the U.S. Copyright
Act, 17 U.S.C. S512(c)(3),
Tammy M. Darby
Jul 19, 2013
Jul 19, 2013 at 8:46 PM UTC
*The smell of rain precedes the storm
that looms out in the west.
The sound of distant thunder
causes racing in my chest.*
*The temperature begins to drop
as I begin to flee
Seeking shelter from the storm
beneath a lonely tree.*
*I cower there, although I know
this haven's a mistake.
I know this is a lightning rod
but that's the chance I take.*
*The clouds, like battlements,
now, tower overhead
Ominous...majestic...and
they fill my heart with dread.*
*Drops of rain begin to fall
and plop among the leaves
Followed my the icy hail
that toward my shelter weaves.*
*A branch has fallen near my crouch
and nearly I am crushed.
My choice to wait beneath the tree
now seems a little rushed.*
*I stumble out into the storm.
The rain is driving hard.
Lightning strikes the tree I'd left.
The trunk is black and charred.*
*How foolish was my little hike
in spite of warnings thus.
Stay at home when storms approach
or next time...take the bus*
Jun 2, 2017
Jun 2, 2017 at 11:03 PM UTC
Dear Addiction, could you please stop knocking on my door?
I already have your ***** syringes scattered about my floor.
You keep on telling me that I want more
But I’m not very sure.
When you pierce my skin everything stills
Even though I hate it it feels so much better than the pills
I don’t want to do anything you have taken my will
Not only that, you’ve taken everything, including all of my dollar bills
I know that feeling of dry mouth too well.
They tell me that I can stop but honestly, I can’t tell
Right now it seems like the only way out of this is a bullet shell
I don’t know why I crave you when you bring me so much hell
When you crawl your way back into my veins
Those first hits of pleasure make me go insane
I start to remember why I got on this crazy train
But then I remember just how badly you’ve ****** up my brain
I wish I could get your illness out of my head.
They tell me that I am one twentieth of a gram from ending up dead
Yet no matter how many warnings are said
You seem to be the only reason to get out of bed.
I have lied for you.
I have ****** for you.
I have done for many awful things for you.
And I will most likely die because of you.
Dear Addiction, why do you make this so tough?
They say that abusive relationships aren’t made out of love
And I know the way you treat me is rough
But I cannot help what I love.
They say that all you do is harm.
Yet when my happiness comes into me through a needle in my arm
And my brain tells me that I should be alarmed
All I can do is crave your harm.
Your harm makes me feel like I am whole.
But it also seems to drag me further into the hole.
It seems that you have taken my soul
Getting you out of my life is a faraway goal.
Dear Addiction, you’ve hit me with a huge smack.
You’ve shown me how easy it is for life to get out of whack
I probably should have stopped before your first attack
But you had seen to put my life back on track.
Dear Addiction, you fill up my hunger.
But at the same time I’m starting to feel more and more like a jumper
I hate you more than I’ve hated any other
You are my most hated lover.
Dear Addiction,
I’m giving you an eviction.
I never even gave you any permission
To take away my ambitions.
Dear Addiction, I want to send you away.
But you are still knocking at the door where I stay
You always do know how to get your way.
Time to go back to my decay.
Dear Addiction
Stop ******* knocking. I’m coming!
Apr 27, 2016
Apr 27, 2016 at 8:13 PM UTC
His fur catches twinkling light
spots motifs hypnotize.
He paces the cage, restless.
The black claw wants
to tear open raw flesh.
Pulsing dense warmth
flows in the heavy air.
To get closer—
just for a while,
to look into gold-red, cold eyes
To touch the mystery,
to ask what it feels
when it rips apart the skull
and slurps the fading beingness…
Is curiosity worth it?
Nature is no accident,
Nothing is left to mere chance.
Stare too long into his eyes,
the barriers come down…
Is that you, or is that I?
An ominous gaze is a gift
that unveils the fated future.
If they open the door
He reacts without control.
His instincts unerringly
detect unspoken warnings.
Run away,
Turn to stone,
Scream or Faint if you want.
The shrinking, narrow space
puts everyone to the test
in a world of large and small cages.
Feb 20, 2025
Feb 20, 2025 at 6:35 AM UTC
Scarborough circa 1989
Jacqui in the night of the instant sunrise
Raises the morning on her shoulders
Swelling between tears and laughter
She melts words into meaning
and gambles on intuition and power
Jacqui in the night of the instant sunrise
looking back and looking forward
finds the dawn most appealing
and issues commands and warnings
to all those with the inner strength to heed them
Jacqui in the night of the instant sunrise
smiles, and the strength of metal
and the purest of beauty
are forged anew
Into the eyes of this miraculous woman
I enter a new beginning
where wisdom lives, and moves, behind her horizons
Jacqui in the night of the instant sunrise
becomes the centre
where all truths are issued passage
and all lies are refused
Jacqui in the night of the instant sunrise
blends courage and compassion
into hues of fine precision
and automatic weapons
Jacqui in the night of the instant sunrise
spreads warmth like a familiar blanket
and moves the day by her power
just as it moves her.
James H. Webb
Jul 13, 2014
Jul 13, 2014 at 12:02 AM UTC
for the 111 yr. old young lady from Mars
<•>
fluids in, fluids out
wake up at midnight, lips, throat, even eyes, California Death Valley parched, white crusted-stuck together,
it takes Poland Spring water from the Northeast to unlock the throat, ****** not sipped, from a plastic gourd the chilling wetness slap to the body and brain screams metaphor, poem in there somewhere,
so what if it's spat-past midnight,
isn't this one of those soul-criticality's,
staying hydrated, (is) disco staying alive
make sense to you?
the older I get, thirstier I am, could be I'm drying/dying out from the inside out,
doctors clueless, but then again they don't reveal all they see out of poetic professional courtesy and they are tired of
yeah yeah yeah,
my professional courtesy answer to their dire warnings repetitious
tonight tho the metaphor runs strong like a mountain stream,
a Mt. Marcy beginning trickle growing into a mighty Hudson,
and the driving urge to drink, simple replenishment, birth fluid
is strong transformed into words
water is words, the water is wide, the poems hydrate what's left on the inside, and the metaphor transforms itself again
water is words, words are water,
the difference huge, the difference minuscule,
both pour, both refresh like a mother's body fluids,
all for one, one for all, and as closing time grows nigh,
staying-hydrated is primate
place a new cold bottle in readiness for my
3 o'clock feeding
Nov 14, 2017
Nov 14, 2017 at 1:50 PM UTC
I share the fault
with all the world
sheltered women who haven't heard
the division of society
more than young and old
the innocence of one
the truth of all
the escape that was mentioned
of life and love and thought
and the law who insisted
with no place to have undone
the time that's spent
blood shed as it went
no notice, nor crime
just warnings, every "this time..."
so society as a whole
each of their individual souls
made, to end, prescribed, then sent
along its path, too soon, too soon
a pre-destined night under a moon
and the lust of attraction
the haste of their actions
all death is meant to be
the hero is he, you see
Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 3:59 PM UTC