Ramblings Of A Survivor

Lost.
In this broken world.
Burning.
In a broken home.
To you I may seem...
Irritated and inwardly scorned.
In my hand I hold.
A teaspoon of stone and a fistful of tears,
No more wishes.
Still...
With all the same old fears.
I see...
Faces and the rage behind those faces.
People bound by complex prostitutions of themselves.
Hidden in the shape of people,
Nasty, little secrets shining from their steeple.
Suicidal rages stuck in the eyes,
Like lies...
Stuck in your head,
Or reasons hanging over your bed.
Pervertion under your fingernails.
And hate steaming in your heart,
Come on back down that road I longed to depart.
I've reached this river of deceit,
Now can I get a receipt for my time......please ?!
I've been here too long to leave.
Without at least a rhyme for my reasons and a reason for these rhymes.
Time and Time again.
I keep waiting...
For this altar of mystery misery to come crashing down over my head.
Dead.
From the inside out.
I've just now found my specific sound.
My legal bound to a personality conflict.

Written 1997