i.
i chased my demons
across my spotted family tree,
and into the jumble of
asphalt and anger
of city life; i
followed them into
a cardboard existence
and beyond trashcan survival
but it was okay, it was acceptable--
until i stared down the barrel
of wasted youth
and begged for
someone, anyone,
oh, god please---
just pull the fucking trigger.
i waited.
ii.
on the fourth floor
in the ward where i “belong”
they tell me i was born this way--
bred with the genes
of a loser and his lover
and painfully taking after both
i believe them
because they wear scrubs and white coats,
and they are smiling when they talk
of freedom.
iii.
up and down i rode the wave;
in and out i experienced consciousness
until eventually i couldn’t remember
the taste of reality on my tongue
and morality seemed like a slap in the face
of all i’d ever tried to stand for
iv.
sometimes hopelessness makes you
attempt the impossible.
v.
i do not live
the way i used to.
Author notes
Maybe it was the fact that he was a drunk, or that the "defective" people he created strived to practice moral correctness, but this just screamed of a certain fellowship to me, and I ran with it.
I see you would prefer not to have epics entered, so obviously, if this is too much, I understand if you remove it.
Thanks for the awesome prompt.
A contest entry
- Lessons more ancient than Greece [semiquickie] by stasis.
700 points, ended May 27, 5 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
♥
Comments
-
This isn't epic at all, in fact, this was about the length I was looking for and I think you nailed it.
Love this.
Thank you for entering.
♣ Tegan
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