another untitled poem…written in 2002

 

 

The flick, the stick, the binge, the fling

Toss around high ideals

Utopian worlds that don’t exist

But in a world of make believe

The flick, disdaining every word

Ordaining self as king of all

The stick, beating us about the head

In attempts to rule the herd

The binge, self destructive force

Our insides out; free for all

The fling, seeking never finds

Leaving ash where once was hope

© 2002

 

(I don’t know…don’t really care…right now to even begin to think about what my younger self meant by this poem…time for bed…)

Advertisements