Ramblings of a Teenaged Sinner

Cigarette smoke inhaled

by the black lungs of Jesus.

No one’s perfect.

Utopia does not exist,

there will never be rainbows

running free through the city.

 

Heroine addicts always wear

long sleeves, so do the cutters.

It gets so hot in the summer

and her secret roasts inside.

Never let her come out.

 

Rainbows, flaming homosexuals

and those less stereotypical.

Marker on her hand,

she goes out for drinks with friends

to get the stench of lesbian off her.

Reviews

[SoulCrusader (Yas)]

Great rythm this poem possesses. With deep messages.

Well done!