Reads: 288  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 2

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

Incomplete, like everything i write.

The vane vanities of our past and places,

Are ever changing,

With passing of time,

And judgmental faces.

Congenial tales clock the era,

Water walkers morph, die, transform,

Forgotten all.

My martyrs cry potent tears of furious indignity.

A just chase for each tail,

Lives of emptiness for every trail,

Guarantees of pain for the while.

Outcasts die alone,  Demonized.

Pessimists aren't let down, The glass is tipped over,

Lukewarm extremities cool any flames,

Zealous apathy stomps my skull,

Polite intolerance chips my teeth,

Innocent ignorance cleans a blade on my frozen flesh.

Submitted: November 09, 2011

© Copyright 2021 LyricalVisionary. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:



keep writing! wanna see more!

Wed, November 9th, 2011 5:54am


You will

Tue, November 8th, 2011 10:01pm

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