When your truth becomes optional
And authority's unreliable
The clouds fire in and say
Your hopes are all delusional
And before you stepped on the pedal, we both realised
They had us all surrounded.
Lights beamed down upon us from the alien skies
And their toy guns and shields fucking crowded.
Around us, all around us.
Stepped forward; you took my hand.
We'd drive off the edge.
From a world that'll never make amends.
YOU ARE READING
Coloratura
PoetryPoems I wrote as a mentally ill adolescent with nothing to do but write and cry sometimes.
