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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Written during one of my more cynical moments.

Submitted: January 22, 2011

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Submitted: January 22, 2011



The foulness of the universe
Is in plain sight for all to see,
From the born idle-rich,
To paupers in great need.

Such an awful universe indeed
Where evil stars hang overhead,
And needy folks living in the streets
Pray to the Lord that they were dead.

An evil place with evil stars
That glare down like foul messengers,
Messengers of doom and despair
Evil, tormenting harbingers.

Harbingers of a doomed race
Living in the foul universe,
Trying frantically to survive
Wondering if anywhere could be worse?

Far worse than anywhere you’ve seen
Is the foul universe we live in,
A universe besotted with hatred
A universe wreaking of sin.

A dreadful sky looms overhead
Glaring like the face of doom,
A sky with black stars that don’t shine
Blotting out the sun and moon.

The foulness of this septic place
Is almost far too much to bare,
Polluting all the pure at heart
Like toxic gases in the air.

The foul universe holds goodness in
Refusing to let anyone escape,
The clutches of the monstrous sky
A universe that oozes hates.

A universe so bland and foul
Stinking up our hearts and our souls,
Until our mind is almost dead
Until our hopes are all on hold.

The foul universe will win again
As all the good folk ever lose,
And as a nightmare life goes on
The living wonder, “What’s the use?”

© Copyright 2011
Philip Roberts

© Copyright 2017 Philip Roberts. All rights reserved.

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