In a building of extreme emotional impulse
Rabid frothing
Oh, a gentle reminder of the day
Nothing for granted
Nothing forsaken
The momentary lusting
The eternal hammer drop
Only in my head do these things ring out
Ridiculous
My very heart pounds these nails into the wall
If not for a turbulent period
There would be no pursing or laughing
No concertos
No need for control
But who needs those things anyway, really
But really
Have you ever stopped to think
Well, you shouldn't
It takes up valuable territory
Where all property is worthless, if not constantly created
Freshly furrowed
Sewn and saturated
The reaping will come
|
Email this Poetry
|
Add to reading list





