What a titanic waste
this monstrous tower of ire
ten thousand pricks to kick against
smoke that reveals no cleansing fire
did I harness strength, discipline
for this unseemly tide
am I a helpless leaf in it
taken for the cliché ride
Won’t waste more good ink on it
good feelings after bad
It’s just weak humanity
a moment that I had
what
No comments:
Post a Comment