Candid frowns plastered upon wool strewn faces.
Pacing crowds of sadistic races, falling from all of our assumed graces.
I chase these yearning wastes, laced with inebriated vases.
Get a taste of this destructive haste, and hate it.
We display our greed by holding all the aces.
Acing cases of public humiliation, one pathetic life span at a time.
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Chilling horde of latex figures, kindly taking a piece of me.
Latch on, no time for waiting, dip down into shallow sea.
Grading fractions of syntax, feel free to relax.
They mimic the hovering of sewer rats with nothing to attack.
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The numbers count down to the beginning of a failing birth.
Giving her no time to rehearse the eery screams of the dying church.
They fail to give me anything I can project within my current girth.
Daring dangerous paragraphs and flighty stratospheres to perch.
They’re all giving up on humanity, and I only want to save my sanity.
Please don’t fail to give me back my precious vanity, I cringe.
Bridges burning, I can hear them screeching into the open trench.
They only want you to save yourself from the water below me.
Don’t drown, burn in the depths of the hell they serve indefinitely.
YOU ARE READING
Down This Path
PoetryThis selection of poems were written during a series of events that would then unfold into a turning point within my own life. Tragic circumstances muddled by poor judgement and a taste for adventure turned into what I thought was a glorious success...
