deepundergroundpoetry.com

The Few, the Proud, the Living.

Let the hypocrites judge and stare.
As we boldly take the dare.
Our mothers may tell us otherwise.
Yet they don’t know how we improvise.

Fuel up on love’s lies.
Waste your energy on worthless cries.
Commit dirty crimes.
Live these years as corrupted times.

There are things to remember.
Memories to pamper.
Fights to win,
And we struggle in our sin.

Innocence has vanished.
The young girls and boys are finished.
Pulled over to the dark side.
The only thing in our way is our own selfish pride.

Pretend everything is normal.
Act formal.
Live by the rules and obey.
Enjoy the light of day.

Until night shows.
Love our enemies and foes.
Until the darkness covers,
Sinners and saints are lovers.

As sudden as the moon is high.
We may sneak out and fly.
Rebel against our conscience’ guide.
Reckless. Let our common sense hide.

This is our true identity.
We have definitely lost all sanity.
Our personality is bold and proud.
And forever our passion will be loud.


Written by ScarsAndMemories (Elegantlyruined)
Published
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