deepundergroundpoetry.com
In Times of Despair
I look to thee; seeking comfort.
Only finding empty bottles of companionship with love scattered about; eagerly smelling the scent of confusion and chaos that lingers around.
Festering,
refusing to repent.
Instead,
rather make sense of futile thoughts.
These relentless questions need immediate responses, answers.
Therefore poking, probing, into the emotions of those close; causing anguish.
Conversations become painful outrages, rants of sorts, justified by 40 proof prescriptions.
Alone, joy is imminent.
Sweet feelings amidst broken seals and shot glass refills.
Latching onto soul-less beings, self medication; the worst solution.
In times of despair.
Only finding empty bottles of companionship with love scattered about; eagerly smelling the scent of confusion and chaos that lingers around.
Festering,
refusing to repent.
Instead,
rather make sense of futile thoughts.
These relentless questions need immediate responses, answers.
Therefore poking, probing, into the emotions of those close; causing anguish.
Conversations become painful outrages, rants of sorts, justified by 40 proof prescriptions.
Alone, joy is imminent.
Sweet feelings amidst broken seals and shot glass refills.
Latching onto soul-less beings, self medication; the worst solution.
In times of despair.
Published 12th Mar 2014
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