We slaughter our humanity, like gambling for a crime,
obscuring it with age, listlessly passing through like time,
dignity is the evidence, we debilitate it with tricks,
a magnifying glass reflects our lies, faces as brittle as pricks.
Along comes our innocence, an element of witness,
the murderous pins that hide within, set into a recess.
Our purity is an advantage, a flawless and pious alibi,
setting them to sleep within, like souls to a holy lullaby,
like a quixotic and scalding hell for the sinning we commit,
slaughter is a conceptual crime, and alibis conceal every bit.
YOU ARE READING
Reminisce
Poetry~ Words leak through minds, like too much ink does to paper. They spread silently like diseases and blossom like the non-existent amaranthine in spring. ~ (COVER NOT MINE) (All rights reserved) (A collection of rhyming poems. Part 2 out now) (Hig...
