PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I've perused 

what you call your life

to see that beast

you keep dragging around,

after hours you leash it

and unleash it at your leisure

Snarling snaggled unlucky

teeth tucked behind you

that keeps you miserable

under the waves,

I'm frightened for the both of us

The stinch is stale

but the fur glows white

telling me it's a pure kind

of unhappy feeling,

the kind my mother warned of

You live way out there now

in that town 

that drowned

with anchors of beasts around you all,

Ive also received a cordial invite

I stare down occasionally 

to see what a young man can see

To see age and the absence of youth

grow poisonous of what was 

and what should be

out in this sea of sharp intellect

Shiny and mislabled 

you call your life the last gasp

before you become unstable

and shoot up a 7/11

"She sure was a nice girl"

they smile into their food

easily enamoured 

and always unamused

Power tooled kinds of uncertainties

shark their way underneath

every crevice you collect

until suddenly you have been created

I am all that is not built

youth in standard

age before wisdom

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