Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god

Them, Us, Me (hugs)

The afterlife keeps me howling,
A melange of asininity
Shackling me to the core of hell.
Imprisoned in bitterness and seeking
The only way out, through a hole in a vein,
A hole in a heart, or a hole in the brain.
Whichever breaks the bond of living faster.
I ain't so picky these days
When reality snaps like a rubber band
And the sun comes out from hiding
Behind its swollen gray clouds, and
Suddenly, the droopy flowers have meaning.
The options are faded but still visible and
I wonder why the backwardness of my life
Has kept me beguiled with voices,
Sinister decisions and more tears
Than a person should cry in a life time.
I've made oceans for ants, weeping
And creating thunder from my wails.
I've prayed for better days from a god
Who might be too busy to listen to my
Petty pleas for the smog of depression to be lifted.
I wonder why the charm of death
Electrifies me more than the desire to live.
I no longer expect to be enthused,
I'm merely walking in circles, creating my own beaten path
And cursing it as well.

5-4-11


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Them, Us, Me (hugs)

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