Where a lawn used to flourish
now grows a weed forest.
Within the forest a collection of trash,
and empty liquor bottles decorate dead grass.
My fascination lies beyond the weeds,
an old abandoned house beckons to me.
With promises of secrets and dark treasures to be found,
I jog through the jug graveyard, up the stairs I bound.
I glance through one of its broken eyes;
I see spiders and used syringes inside.
The front door of this structure is missing its knob;
The hole now filled with a half rotting corncob.
Okay, so, this place is creepy as fuck.
I love to explore but I won’t push my luck.
my words are far from uplifting
my attitude towards life are like sands shifting
thoughts like thunderous waves crashing on an empty shore
any hope washed up and buried forever more
My country’s leader speaks
and inside I begin to shriek!
The words I hear from our “President”
are filled with hate, racism and dryer lint.
How did this happen? Do I really live here?
This land of dreams, is a nation of fear.
Flowers, colors run
in the rain, sun;
to me; everyone.
Scream no one can hear
Come undone no one can see
Dream screams; no one hears,
they’ve lost their ears.
Stab wounds, there is no blood,
no scars, no love.
Why, why, why.
Do you think you
need to know why.
Spread your arms, flap and run,
perhaps you will take flight, like a penguin.
I am a balloon. I float above the town, a renegade.
Beer, wine and a bottle of whiskey.
Marlboros, a joint, just you and me.
I HATE LIFE-
SORRY BUT IT’S THE TRUTH.
No smiles, just tears, no hope, just fears. No, no, no, no, no…
featured image by BLT
Another day of staring at the walls;
it’s not a complaint; fact of life is all.
I don’t need anything to do with myself,
perfectly content to sit on the shelf.
Staring, not caring, not sharing feelings;
hours and hours staring at the ceiling.