deepundergroundpoetry.com

Denied

Denied the perpetual indulgence
� � � � � �in a life you remain
� � � � � � � � � � �transfixed

� � � � �You sit in your rocking chair
� � � � � � �on a porch of illusion
� � � � �strumming up the the next lie
� � � � � � � � you will feed your
� � � � � � � � � � current uses.

� � � � � � �No longer a thought
to peer over the shoulder at the sound
� � � � � � � � � � of approach
� � when the walker seizes to inflict.

� � � � �Grey is a color of the past,
its bleakness cowarding in the back
� � � � � � � � � � � of the mind
� � � � � � �where is loses its place�.

Nothing came with heart shaped boxes
� � � � � � �tied with harsh lisps
� � � � � � �and murderous eyes.

� � � � � � � � � � � � �Alive
� � � and it ruffles the feathers,
� �bothers that the past is the past
� � and the seeds thought solidified
� � � � � �in the soils of the mind
� � � � � � � � � �will not be
� � � � � � � � coming along.

� � � � �Moving on wasn't easy,
� � � � �made sure it took time,
� � � � � � painting the devil
� � � � � � � in golden robes
� � � � � while the landscape
� � � � �behind laid bleeding
� � � � � � � � � and rotting
� � � � � � �from your touch.
� �Nothing worth saving is easy�

Bringing whats dead back to life
� � � � � � � � after your rot.