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| Dark Poetry #5 |
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rags |
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zaxby Junior Member
since 2009-03-05
Posts 48California |
Rags, tatters, hats, and bows, see night black with swarming crows. Watch tide pale in moonlights breath, closer now you fall towards death. Birth came hard for this woman, a shocked doctors face, piercing screams cut off short, put you in this place. Mother died for you, then cancer took your wife, no reason swept away all the good within your life. Overseas fighting in lands hot and dry, shocked into silence soldiers never cry. Can’t escape dreams of what was said or done, as you baked in costume under vicious beating sun. Came home vacuum without a place, deep in despair full of disgrace. Pain nibbles vicious at your soul, the more lost in love the less control. A bottle seemed the best way out, foolish man, stinking lout. A gutter is the place to be, always there, always free. In this stupor it’s not so bad, what is lost, what is sad City swarm moving fast, caring not about your past. Cigarette burns, chapped bleeding lips, this, the last night of all your trips. Fading distortion of one who never tried, nothing with purpose lived then died. |
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