alternative, free verse, independent, literature, poetry, Uncategorized

Dark At Dawn Again

Some kind of modern day wraith

Trapped in a suburban spin cycle

Waiting like a statue for the seasons to change

Days are damned by solitude

Night by masks and guides of lies

 

Try to block it out,

Shape up and keep clean.

Streets like a spider’s snare

Valleys of indecision that swallow whole lives.

And they really do want to change.

We’re all fucked up and drowning in the same fucking above-god backyard swimming pool.

Bromides, chlorine and dead animals.

 

If we stick together en masse there could be a change

But alone or in twos we cling together like rats and sink like stones

To lower depths of praetorian depression

And the abyssal trench of anxiety waits hungry for more souls

The mental illness monstrosity, scourge of a broken generation

Tears us apart and dopes us up with false promises of idyllic futures.

Jack Blare, 2016

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