See,
life attacks you
in varying shades of hostility.
But
believe,
in f r a c t u r e d skyline moments
you can plainly paint
(if you just squint your eyes)
a happier horizon
upon the misanthropic sea.
I haven't the time
to participate in a symphony
of orchestrated delusions
which seem to speak
of thinly veiled lies
sliding from the finger tips of modern man
as we wed ourselves
to the affluent afterlife.
Tell me
is there anything you would rather be
than
1 part
of a working machine
functioning in synthetic lullabies
to sketch a smile upon the starving faces?
It's a struggle when you realize
the simple plot that's been panned out
fade to cherried hues of tragedy
focused into tiny points of light
distracting you through
(video tubes)
and partaking in the late demise
of
man unkind.
(pity me)
The world is but a
piping
hot
microwaved version
of eternity
and God's propped up
catching
last night's CSI
Stirring the seas
and cutting our lives
into
bite
sized
pieces.
Honorable mention
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