![]() A Tiny SliverA Poem by Kenneth The Poet![]() Thoughts from a mind obsessed with the final outcome![]()
Busted and hurt, not an ounce of remorse
Will this s**t work itself out in due course? Staring at the ceiling, a great sword unseen Much like Russell's teapot, that much we can glean There but not, playing this game of hide and seek To totally disprove would be the job of the Greek An altar to a god that nobody understood Even today, the believers pray like they should The skeptic lost in a quandary of circularity But the choir plays sounds of familiarity A decision could be made if he had the will Just let go, bite the bullet, swallow the pill Blood running down the post onto the top The radical message is not a gigantic belly flop Maybe it is, the ripples surely shocked pagan minds Rattling philosophical, theological cages of every kind And to this day where a lukewarm message is the norm Nobody has the constitution to weather the storm Above the skull, the straight blade is ultimately curved The verdict, a dish so hot is readily served Salty drops create brown circles inside the mug There is only kneeling down on the basement rug The demon of doubt always prods so close and unseen The lord of brimstone is just one thing that is really mean But the man the middle is the one that must deliver Because its his fate that stands on a tiny sliver © 2011 Kenneth The Poet |
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3 Reviews Added on May 25, 2011 Last Updated on May 25, 2011 Author![]() Kenneth The PoetBismarck, NDAboutKenneth The Poet is an optimist wrapped in the candy shell of moroseness and cynicism. He lives between the two parallels marked 46 and 49, all while living in the state marked 39. He pretends that he.. more..Writing
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