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    • Oct 14, 2010
    • 1 min read

October 14th Mostly

The suicide of ecstasy

a pool ball on the floor

in a bottle, craves a fantasy

no harm to have one more

 

dignity is lost amidst

the macho strut of youth

and leaning on the tide of years

you're spellbound by the truth

 

They spit the woes at you unchecked

but no one cares to listen

childish memories unfold

peering at your prison

 

and yet you tell of plenty

what is this truth at all?

it falls on ears deaf and blind

another blanket wall

 

the scars live on your hands

and face, a mirror to

the agony of ecscasy

the suicide of you.

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