Dionysus Crutch (The Disciplined Breakdown)

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic

another poem.

Parading through the littered streets
A bottle raised in hand
A saddened jester, skipping keenly
Who mourns upon this land
Who famously proclaims to all
Through slurring, drunken haze
“She will never be the one!”
As he descends into the maze

Give me my crutch
Cause the leg is broken
Lend me a crutch
Before my will is broken
Wanting to fix what’s wrong with me
When everything’s wrong with you

Yet there’s so much wrong with me too

Always keep them spirits high
With bottle close at hand
A raving masochist, laughing on
As tears are soaked into the sand
As he screams for all to hear
In ecstatic, parasitic candor
“She can never be the one!”
And as much he left to wander

Masking down beneath these bells
This bottle stuck in hand
A silent mutiny, gurgling up
That crests to break this man
That frantically shrieks to all
With pain-filled blood shot eyes
“There will never be a one!”
And he laid down with the lies

Steal me my crutch
Cause the will is broken
Forgive me my crutch
After the cause is broken
Hoping to fix what’s rotted me
But everything’s rotten in you

Yet there’s so much rotten inside me too

Submitted: September 15, 2010

© Copyright 2022 Frank Raud. All rights reserved.

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