deepundergroundpoetry.com
Generosity is dead
Hands are held in pockets
to brush the shade from hidden treasures
or to stop the light of day from plugging the holes
black hearted pupils of hungry eyes see both
and blink to shake away the twinkled mist
of lessons close to never forgotten
luck always liked the sour side of stuff
why would today be any different?
just walk towards the future
try not to think too much
about mister Silverspoon
and why he strolled by an age too late
to leave a few gifts
and walk away with all his hard won humble
to brush the shade from hidden treasures
or to stop the light of day from plugging the holes
black hearted pupils of hungry eyes see both
and blink to shake away the twinkled mist
of lessons close to never forgotten
luck always liked the sour side of stuff
why would today be any different?
just walk towards the future
try not to think too much
about mister Silverspoon
and why he strolled by an age too late
to leave a few gifts
and walk away with all his hard won humble
Published 9th Dec 2013
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9th Dec 2013 4:08am
9th Dec 2013 5:28am
I have these jars, dozens of jars filled to the brim with agates and rocks I’ve found while exploring my little square of the world. I often find I like to collect only what I’ve discovered myself. Your pieces are kind of like that, gems in the rough, but all the more beautiful for the jagged edges and world worn parts than any cut diamond ever could be, because you found them yourself. This piece is observantly prickly and I very much enjoyed it. There are moments in this that forces the reader to pause and reflect on our actions, organizing our responses to verify your word.
Wonderfully done.
Wonderfully done.
9th Dec 2013 11:49am
