Stupidest Man Alive

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
The longing; the pain dealing with one's past mistakes or accidents. Examining the holes in the petri dish of our souls, under the proverbial microscope. Getting out from underneath life's little missteps, mistakes and accidents, getting through them, and hopefully being better and stronger for it, in the end. Hope you enjoy!

Submitted: March 18, 2013

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Submitted: March 18, 2013



Have you ever accidentally, thrown something away?

What if it happened to be, the most important thing to you, in the entire world?

What if you didn't even realize you were throwing it away, didn't even understand, until it was way too late; way too far gone?

Gone forever.

What if you were the stupidest man alive?

What if you cherished something like it was golden, only to absently toss it away? Like a memo in the bin.

How would you feel? How could you live with yourself? How could you ever regain feeling enough, just to start feeling again.

Comfortably numb. Like staring into the eyes of the sun.

Voluntarily shunned.

A wreckloose, transformed; forced to recluse.

From losing your heart, to eventually tossing your soul; harrowing it into the ground, it being no longer hallowed.

Tossing everything away. Losing all hope.

Quite possibly... The stupidest man alive.

Wishing it would come round again.

Knowing it's out there, somewhere, far beyond reach; floating off, someplace, deep in the mist.

Running through it, heedlessly and endlessly, arms outstretched, feeling for hope, grasping at air and fog. Trying to catch a ghost.

Knowing we'll never find our way back again; lost in the fog.

Lost in your mind, constantly searching, for all the rest of time.

No logic can find it, nothing can be done.

I'll always be yearning, and by my own bidding, be shunned.

Not knowing; uncontrolling, I scream and I run.

Totally aware, unremembering, when last I had fun.

I'm bout to give up, my ticket out, now that I'm done.

What ever you do, keep me away from that gun.

You never know when the holder, is aiming; staring, straight at the sun.

I think my time's over, my ears are ringing a ton.

The clock's ticking frantically, finally, now that my time has just come.

Since I've lost my precious, I've only really felt stunned.

Time to return, glaring, both eyes widely open, deep, into the sun.

Until my retinas are gone, bleached white as the reaping moon.

Have you met me?

I certainly must be,

The stupidest man alive.

And now, finally, I'm ready; the time is high-noon.

My just dessert.

© Copyright 2017 Km2. All rights reserved.

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