PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

It hits like a hammer on the roof of an orphanage

Keeping babies awake

Making them live out the waking nightmare called their existence

Paying the price of an afraid or too poor parent

Giving life such a stale fragrance

That in coming years, the word ‘hope’ may mean nothing

Or at very least, that’s it’s okay to be hopeless



And, I don’t know where we’re all going

But, we’re all living lives with messed up priorities

And, we’re all living our lives so selfishly

That it’s not hard realizing why we’re all searching for something



There are definitions for every kind of pain

And prescriptions to abate them

And books telling us the way we should cure ourselves

As if we could cure ourselves of anything

As if we are gods in the making

Swallowing the gods we’ve been creating

Just so we can put a smile on and think that we’re in control



There are consequences that we’ve found and are still finding

The result of slander, bliss, guns, sex, love, hate, and the combination of all their defects

And, we think we can control where we’ll end up next

But, we can’t see the side-effects of ignorance, arrogance, and self-righteousness

And, we can’t see the side-effects of ourselves



And, I don’t know where we’re all going

But, it’s not hard realizing why we’re all searching for something