Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god
Falling From Epimetheus' Cruel Hands
I have saline tears because
I can't produce real ones to
Dance and shimmer down these
Classless cheeks.
Am I running again?
A failure leaping from the nest?
Like a pawn
Making the first move,
I submerge myself in a
Destiny of seeing death,
Pleading for the mundane
And sizzling with desire
To love but knowing it's
Not real.
Cursing Epimetheus' cruel
Hands for molding such an
Amorphous fool, I
Flounder for air as I
Suffocate from redemption.
Maybe I'm a cretin;
An austere bacteria
Waiting to make sick and
Diseased a nation of
Smiling faces, who are unaware
Of the ugly that will
Befall them.
7-26-10
I can't produce real ones to
Dance and shimmer down these
Classless cheeks.
Am I running again?
A failure leaping from the nest?
Like a pawn
Making the first move,
I submerge myself in a
Destiny of seeing death,
Pleading for the mundane
And sizzling with desire
To love but knowing it's
Not real.
Cursing Epimetheus' cruel
Hands for molding such an
Amorphous fool, I
Flounder for air as I
Suffocate from redemption.
Maybe I'm a cretin;
An austere bacteria
Waiting to make sick and
Diseased a nation of
Smiling faces, who are unaware
Of the ugly that will
Befall them.
7-26-10
Comment On This Poem ---
Falling From Epimetheus` Cruel Hands
Falling From Epimetheus` Cruel Hands
