How many of your intentions
Cast a shadow over
The image I had had of you?
How many sparks of fire
Emit from you when lying,
deceiving, and can they be
As passionate as how I thought
You had felt about me?
How many strenuous and sleepless
Dawns did I stay open armed,
Waiting for you to let your guard
Down and just come inside?
How many saltine lullabies
Do I have to sing for you
To finally acquire my melody?
How many times do I have to
Catch you brandishing the
Culprit before you admit yourself
Of your own crimes?
When they find my autopsy,
Will you choose to scout out
An excuse, or will you
Flea in an attempt to
Nullify any truth
You can receive within
Your erect fortress?
When I'm set in
Dirt and ash, will
Your secrets burn
Away in the remnants
That lay true with my
Divine corpse? Or will
This parasitic vice grab ahold
Of yet another inferior victim,
For their death to too run amuck?
YOU ARE READING
Shuttle Bus 17: A Poetry Collection
PoetryPoetry from a discombobulated seventeen year old boy. From falling in love to hating parties to loving where you're from, I/you/he tries to truly understand life's prophecies through writing it all down.
