Poet 11586

The Life Span Of An Unmanned Mind

I was born in a storm cloud of shrouded truths
I was born in a phone booth on the bad side of town
I was raised in a rat maze where the cheese was all plastic
I was raised in an elastic womb with a roommate made of paper
I ate the fake food
and drank from diluted puddles
I learned to scuttle along the bottom before I walked
I learned to talk in tones cloned from the vocal chords of stone saviors
I grew up under an intense gravity
I grew up in an atmospheric cavity
The dents in my cement disposition are equivalent to an event horizon
I got old in a black hole of second-hand souls and cold faces
I got old in a graceless gauntlet of haunted houses and mouse traps
I became weak in a rickety tree fort
with splintered boards and rusty nails
I became weak in a jail cell of self-indulgent excuses
and necktie nooses
My loose cannon attention span Isakin to a causal Friday Klan meeting
I expired in a mosh pit of retired choir boys
I expired in an unemployment line next to a blind Buddha
I began decomposing in a rainbow rose garden of hardened criminals
I began decomposing in a minimalist crystal vase
on a bookcase filled with bibles
My tribal sense of transcendence is dependent on lent faith and stolen quotations
Iearned salvation by pawning my predisposed beliefs
Iearned salvation by releasing
rabid incarnations of tired ideologies
I was resurrected with a direct to brain injection of rejected genius
I was resurrected with an infected needle while the Beetles sangbackup
My short stack of lackluster memories is a cemetery for fairy tales and stale stories
My life has been this gloriously deformed gift