Bitterness

'Oh f**k my life'

sighs the youth on the road,

the smoke escapes from pink satin lips,

now cracked and bit by suns bitter envy.

The cigarette is gone, the ash now on the walkway,

a once new soul, now

broken, deceived, fed up.

With a whistful look, he tuns his head

and gazes towards the east and west.

Does he dare to wish,

does he dare to dream,

does he mean to be a angry as he seems?

HIs good intentions, now torn down by

bitter interpretations,

his angel wings, now a bleached out skeleton

of the life he used to live.

Now the ink glows on his arm,

as the dew drips slowly down his skin.

A black All Star shoe

scuffs the dirt next to his stair,

A torn flannel shirt his only shelter

a hand over his eyes, and a star overhead,

he wanders off to the north.

Whats his story? No one knows.

No ones cares to tell.

For what is one poor, bitter soul worth,

when a much better people now roam the earth?

Reviews

[funeralmoon]

sad hannah.. i like. i can taste the sorrow..