deepundergroundpoetry.com

Garbage Humor

Poison tethers us together and nestles us under feathered wings.
A toxic tribe of toxic people keeping no promises to our king.
A sick, sad older man with a last name that can't be pronounced
Is dying and he will be dead before night comes, and we're all laughing about it.
But tucked underneath the leaves, there's a hidden antidote.
Sparking conflict between the artist and the walls.
The paint is not what it seems, we have been right here before.
Suffering on, letting God tell me what is real and what is not.
Atlantis seemed too happy then, so we sank their paper hopes.
A branch had fallen, the tree's uneven and the wind is not quite right.
Fevers are misleading. I have never died this much.
I'm desperate and cold and I came here alone, and I'll die on my own in the forest.
But tucked underneath the leaves, there's a hidden antidote
Sparking conflict between the artist and the walls.
The paint is not what it seems, we have been right here before.
Suffering on, letting God tell me what was real and what was not.


Written by knifesalesmen
Published
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