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…)