From skid row street
to death row and where they meet
you’ve exchanged your life
For a dollar sign and strife
crack alley coloured black
devil cries into your pipe
where shit travels
and you forget to wipe
where is the contrast?
Life for rent
Broken and bent
the colour, the shape of your heart
Before it was torn apart
Give me the child of hope
not the man who copes
with life emotions cut loose
the tyranny of time’s choice
you’ve lost your voice
chasing the dollar
forgetting to holler
about your dreams
while your desolation screams
sandwich board lives.
The title is “sandwich boards lives”because people in this sort of crisis have lost their voice and yet they wear despair and loneliness like a sandwich board you can see it in their face and how they present themselves.
love Andover poem of the day false hope?
Poem and commentary around the idea of hope formed from a short poem I wrote about a bird singing while being trapped in hell.
In a desolate waste land hell
Minds that decay dwell
In the thick starless night
of dead space sight
in the void of hearts that have been shown no love
Like angels with their wings clipped and can not fly above
The sinking feeling reigns in stomachs like a pit
the only fear that reaches us anew is lit
By anger and despair which catches our stare
Like a terrible mournful glare
we are the television dreams that died out
the terrible visions of you that you can’t doubt
but say is true
I am a zombie and so are you
and our hunger can never be sated
abated or abbreviated
I hunger for sanity
In this world of fears
but positivity won’t reach my ears
for we are programmed to feed on the fears of our fathers
and our fathers, fathers and mothers mothers ever after
and we are the struggle that lines all pockets with jewels
and we are the cold hearts beating so cool
and love is what we ache for but we are fools.
Droiling for flesh
Outer shell should not be so important it’s only mesh
Our souls cry out to be touched
But we are bones supported by a crutch
of thoughts that we never really own
I need you I feel so alone
Our mantra crying out to the abyss
but who’s words ?
am I saying this?
Give a bird hope and she will sing.
Even if she lives in hell
with the devil as her King.