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MoPoWa2yA
Word: The Poets Society

Community Post your works and reviews! Message Board Donate to Help Struggling Artists Fully Tax Deductable Join MoPoWa2yA Club Link Poem Turnstyle man unkind by sara what silly profound disturbingly stoned freak prophet will conjure poetics in my small life? i hate to be negative again but miserablism has dropped bombs on my conscious. a fear of uncontrollable apprehension in all reality, coming in from sleep’s misunderstood urgency and all other tracks of existence were born! king of may, you're gone most friends were killed off a dour sense over rose the introduction to summer. how low was the hour that brought me to the corrupt sense of "high school life". my grip on transcending statement was a strong one, for which i cannot deny. dole perception would be annihilated to my knowledge like dust in three short weeks. still, the chill existed well, no warning? no change. four miles in short night with tented black above, cradled warm green and almost artificial effects. the focus of a three months ahead, 20 hour days and 4 hour nights. sorrowful regard for life itself will get you no where but the underarms of a blanket in july. cod in new london served as a sour up lifter once determination was cracked in half. life to begin or end or to be severed from then.... serenity unfolded lengths of impossibility. o from what do i remember now? no but a crawling stance in the gray carpet hallway. wishing life’s momentum would ease to a stand still and graduate me to bereavement. a brick patio, a plastic chair surrounding fire pit. mother and father, you know all to well. time ended in forest slits gray brown pavement overlooking rock cliff hung shrugly over steaming cloud sky and present day.

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