Dying makes one uncouth
prone to brutal truth
harsh words and reprimands
it's not intentional
just hard to tolerate those overly sentimental
about meaningless things
clinging to life itself yet
vacillating
some days I'd rather just cut the safety
and fall
let go of it all
impatient, impatience
I haven't time for waiting
I have a destination
whose ultimate implication is
I cease
and bearing such meaningless prattle
I long for the rattle
death, deceased, dead
peace
No comments:
Post a Comment