It pins me, it fetters me, like thistle to skin,
It tears me, it burdens me, it sneers just to sin,
a loitering mess, of who I once used to be,
You are the lying epitome, of someone who can see.
You know you are a fabulist, and you know what is true,
Your wry eyes are unseeing, of what I commit and do,
I am not a breed apart, from the shadow that shall taint,
I am not that wretched person, of who you thought to be a saint.
A reprobate and a litany, a plethora of rhapsody and mocking,
The world collides with the presence of time, their hands interlocking.
It whistles past the coterie of children, who will grow up to be just the same,
And now all you can do is pretend to ignore it, not acknowledging your blame.
It is your fault, that the stars in the sky, are no longer a white but grey,
It is your fault, that the world rotates, and ignores what I have to say,
From where I stand in the vicinity of misery, all you can dream is simply to see,
That you used to sin more than profanity, which is no more profane than me.
YOU ARE READING
Reminisce (PART TWO)
PoetrySee part one here: https://www.wattpad.com/story/114595931-reminisce Part two of Reminisce. {~Sometimes meanings are as volatile as a person's mind.~} Made by yours sincerely (Cover not mine and belongs to the rightful owner} {YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED...
