PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Give me the wraiths I asked for please,

The demons I wanted as a child, if you would,

when the other kids wanted presents

wrapped in ripping flesh, there I stood,

Give me hardships that will sculpt my Adonis

or deliver me fifty caliber constitution, gold plated

The easy way is a soft one

much too comfortable for callous skin

and couch hopping heros of old

when old is late twenties

I demand to be born again

into a world of x-rays

and gamma ray bursts

popping molecules like bubble wrap,

To be so immune to death

that living must hurt a whole hell of a lot

so when again the covers touch skin

it will be burn potmarks into steel reserved sins,

Health is wasted on the healthy minds

that surround me

where in sickness is multiplied

to the multitudes of rude wastoids

looking cool on their motorcycles

making dandies eat their dust,

You ain't tough

You're ten ply, bud