Turn Off the LightsA Poem by Dennis Shanaberg
A war’s out there, and people are dying off.
Famine, disease, you complain ‘bout a cough. Our seventh sin is always sitting in sloth. Pigs in blankets, fed pablum from the trough-- All right. Because I’m not your kind, My brains not shut in binds. Time for yours to unwind. Darkness is my favorite place-- Reminds me of the whole human race. As they’re all just tryin’ to get laid, I watch them in those beds that they made. So turn off the lights And let me step into your mind. I’ll show you the sights Things that you thought you’d never find. Just break off the chains Of your stupid dear mediocrity. We’re gonna make it rain With all the things that you thought you could never be. Dead eye drunk and their eyes are bloodshot. Empty syringe, nerves pulsing with dull watts. Hold the bottle like it is all that you’ve got. Days on the floor, while you sit and start to rot Away At an unusual pace And your brain’s replaced By your human waste. Darkness is my favorite place-- Reminds me of the whole human race. As they’re all just tryin’ to get laid, I watch them in those beds that they made. So turn off the lights And let me step into your mind. I’ll show you the sights Things that you thought you’d never find. Just break off the chains Of your stupid dear mediocrity. We’re gonna make it rain With all the things that you thought you could never be. © 2012 Dennis ShanabergReviews
|
Stats
201 Views
3 Reviews Added on January 13, 2012 Last Updated on January 13, 2012 AuthorDennis ShanabergMentor, OHAboutAbout my Life… It’s a preface far too long For anyone to read. It’s growing longer everyday. Filled with love and laughter, life and greed. more..Writing
Related WritingPeople who liked this story also liked..
|