deepundergroundpoetry.com

Skull-Truck

In a box,
in the Pandora's box,
we live with memories among our every fault,
and inside small compartments our every craving, or addiction and vice is hiding;
so moreish yet the spiders, rats, lice
are gnawing.
 
There! In the ever quiet,
in the corner of the shadow-less pitch,
the silence chews at sides -
There! The unfazed doll sits partially dressed,
with pennies tucked into brassier, suggesting merely
how her owner, old and dead now, sold out for greed.

In a box,
the Pandora's box
we live with a living memory of our every fault
highlighted and inside, compartments sit with each craving, or addiction and vice penciled on the base
to tempt us with what
never could materialize.
There! In our insides spiders, rats, lice
are gnawing.
Written by ImperfectedStone (The Gardener)
Published | Edited 27th Sep 2011
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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