Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god

The Whirling Future and the Glossy Eyed Girl Who Oogled It

I have my eyes now,
And still, the future
Is blurry.
Bleary eyed and
Weary eyed and
Grasping onto hope, I'm
Fumbling in the dark towards
A future made of glass.
One turn in the wrong
Direction and it all
Shatters beautifully, amazing
Is the sound but picking up the
Pieces is futile and benign.
I'm crumbling, slowly, into
A pile of rubble.
While blinking back the
Conclusion of cold hearts,
I lunge forward,
Uncertain of if this
Is for the best, or
Perhaps, the worst.

July 9, 2007
Suge


Comment On This Poem --- Vote for this poem
The Whirling Future and the Glossy Eyed Girl Who Oogled It

377,936 Poems Read

Sponsors