PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Shit gets serious when you start studying.

There's always something you gotta.. like..

"Make right, rectify" if you might.

I guess gifts aren't allowed,

Forbidden by the scriptures.

How the hell am I supposed to feel?

Where do the words come from

When your brain cells are too busy

Literally devouring each other?

Fussy wussy was a fuzzy whizzer..

The nurse peeked in the creaked

Open white door- emblems embed-

"Another cigarette for the Mister?"

Sifting softened secrets in whispers,

Besides the bedside together we rhyme;

Making metaphors is usually a chore

But not necessarily a bore methinks.

It is in our nature to chase for fame.

Soured barfmatter found its home

In our hearts since we were borne-

Oh, it seems like a long time ago,

But, you know what, not a minute passes

That confusion ain't married, Cherry,

Like the sharp form of broken glasses,

Twinkled cheers with whiskey glasses.

An archway frame to portals

Of the same dreaful headgames

As shapes and shades fanged

Lurk within my mindshadow,

Fade away upon ashmounds

Where scattered scapbook papers

From a diary of an altered state

Flap about in the cold night howls

Of these lost cemetery grounds.