Author Information
Disillusioned
Folder:
2008 I’m the idiot sitting here
Shivering
no longer high
but writing every memory
in a book you won’t ever read
though I’ve sent a copy to Heaven
it came back to me yesterday
Stamped return to sender; undeliverable
but I’ll still pray for a nonexistent savior
born to rescue me and only me
The poet waking from the dream
pen buried in the dirt
sun retreating to the hills
The poet soaked in shit
not green spring leaves
The idiot walking naked in the rain
Shaking
no longer high
but remembering the one
who not only walked
but danced and sang with me
So disillusioned
fingers numbed down to the bone
cramped and cold
and starting to chaff and bleed
but thanks to another handful of pills
Hell- I can’t feel a thing
