PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I wonder if they even make a profit

or these things just exist in epic proportions

for a reason otherwise, in the garden.

Hope for the soul and only the soul

seems the singular need in this universe;

and everything in this maelstrom

whirls in a kind of crazy, feverish dance,

sedated in sorrow of ever sprouting---

dead yet undying structures for whatever.

We've become a product of our own shrill

like not a clean tomorrow might will

dissolution of all confusion. Gravestone.