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Contaminated Society.
The surrogate mothers of youth and beauty slashed, castrated on the virginity of an anorexic rat that smoked too many cigars in his wild days.
When the whisper of love, and innocence washed him clean like the blood of Christ saving the masses of sinners.
As we sit and write, another love lost, another broken-hearted story of all that came before,
like the sinners we are.
We fuck and suck and ache and break the binds of righteousness,
what is righteousness anymore?
Does it even matter?
Are we not our own idols of society scrapping the bottom of the barrel of apples for something wise to believe in?
When we attempt virtue we get nothing to show, the honesty and lies that tangle round our throats.
What is the point of being good and right when we cannot see the fruit of our loins,
as we can feel in the morning when we shower away our one night stands juice?
All the germs shared with the city and spread like Jammy gossip on interested bread.
We cannot fall, and stay, in love these days without some little mouse, or rat, or piece of toast interested in taking a bite of the happiness
and adding their own eyeliner smudge to the meal - CONTAMINATION.
We cannot answer these deprived children with anymore than the heartache.
Unlike the good deads, the bad ones always leave their bitter, like lemon in open wound, marks.[/font]
When the whisper of love, and innocence washed him clean like the blood of Christ saving the masses of sinners.
As we sit and write, another love lost, another broken-hearted story of all that came before,
like the sinners we are.
We fuck and suck and ache and break the binds of righteousness,
what is righteousness anymore?
Does it even matter?
Are we not our own idols of society scrapping the bottom of the barrel of apples for something wise to believe in?
When we attempt virtue we get nothing to show, the honesty and lies that tangle round our throats.
What is the point of being good and right when we cannot see the fruit of our loins,
as we can feel in the morning when we shower away our one night stands juice?
All the germs shared with the city and spread like Jammy gossip on interested bread.
We cannot fall, and stay, in love these days without some little mouse, or rat, or piece of toast interested in taking a bite of the happiness
and adding their own eyeliner smudge to the meal - CONTAMINATION.
We cannot answer these deprived children with anymore than the heartache.
Unlike the good deads, the bad ones always leave their bitter, like lemon in open wound, marks.[/font]
Published 14th Jan 2011
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15th Jan 2011 3:19pm
i have wrote many poems before,all of the poems i wrote i feel them all in this single poem. its incredible.
15th Jan 2011 3:38pm
Thank you, MyBrutalRomance. I'm so glad it was relatable. =] I'd assumed it wasn't too good but you've just made me feel better about it. Thank you.
