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deepundergroundpoetry.com

Sudden Raked Coals

 
It's one thing to drive someone into their coffin
It goes beyond the pale if you also choose to nail it shut
memories of life and living are just not enough
we take videos and photographs, look at them everyday
to keep such visions alive, we cling to the memories of love
we have no choice if the love was true to visit it regularly
but then some see fit to nail the coffin shut and not stop
photographs, love letters and love poems go up in smoke
history and love have this in common, Better to burn the
knowledge and attachments than face the real truth
there are lies, damn lies and the lies you never think
you will be found out on, nobody is exempt from this
and the ones who tell you they are, are the biggest liars

memories like pencil written poetry simply and easily erased
Like the issue of white slavery, deleted or hidden from prying eyes
When you drive someone to desire death, help them into their coffin.
Nail it shut, bury or erase any kind of embarrassing content, burn
Anything significantly left, shit we don't want the world to know
It speaks mountains to a worlds deaf ears as they respond silently
The dead do not see any regret at any point, they will not see a future
Contrite heart, or any returning respect or a shadow of human decency
Prayers for the dead, after their dead is like throwing cow shit at the moon
Might be an idea to care about the living rather than be their coffin helper
But then "I am not my brothers keeper!" they hymn of the selfish the ones
Who think it's ok to put oneself first regardless of the consequences on others
But then: Maybe the person deserved to be in the ground, maybe, bad seed
Or a bad person, maybe like a misogynist' s rape victim they get accused
Of asking for it, deserving it for just walking around bold as brass
Hey you, you're meant to be in the fuckin ground already WTF
"Ok for fuck sake, I'm going"

There is only one thing that can be done for a life of intolerable
Cruelty and pain and that is to end it, to hurt no more
The dead don't know pain because they're fuckin dead
The dead don't know hate because they're fuckin dead
The dead don't know cruelty because they're fuckin dead
The dead don't know suffering  because they're fuckin dead
The dead don't know grief  because they're fuckin dead
The dead don't see missed what could have beens
The dead don't feel unloved
The dead are not desperate for salvation
The dead don't even have to be hugged
Sad to say the dead don't give a god damn fuck
Regardless how they got dead
Because they're fuckin dead

Once there was a boy, that knew not Love
That boy became a teen that knew no love
That teen became a man that knew not love
That man became a corpse who never knew love
And nobody knew apart from the few
Who put him in the ground in the first place
And the whole world didn't give a fuck
Written by David_Macleod (14397816)
Published
Author's Note
Copyright © 2018 David Macleod All Rights Reserved. No part of this Poem may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of David Macleod. dtmacleod@easy.com
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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