Stretching

 

                                                                Stretching

 

     I won’t,

I don’t care to join it,

Don’t dare join in -

With false smiles and platitudes.

 

     I tried,

So tired of trying –

I have given all and then some more,

But the constant of abhorrence’s

Bring me down,

Bring me down,

Bring me down.

 

     I long,

Trust the days - innocence

Had my inarticulate soul running rampage

     For now; I am too upset

With what they’ve done,

 

For I was just an innocent –

Mangled sat amongst the patriots –

The missiles the bullets and the bombs;

Sexed up - a juvenile at heart.

 

I’m lost;

Lost calling all for help

Trying to reclaim the history of my being

As the Devil teases,

And heaven;  try to save the Gold.

 

     Whom was once a placid man,

Now finds himself within the

Theatre of the Damned,

And damned I am,

     If I join

     If I try,

Now I’m longed for death

My innocence tortured;

Lost in tears of grief.

 

     If I join,

I may as well commit

To suicide – my mind

And be the failing life you’ve

Never wanted;

Passed like all the triers gone before;

     Crumpled

     Crumbled,

A corpse buried under the

Token of a wall –

Engraved the special message,

     God loved not this man at all.

 

Michael J Waite 12th January 2012.

◄ In Hell

Not Mad; An Ode to Needful Things ►

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