"I sought fit words to paint the blackest face of woe" ~ Sir Philip Sidney

To have finally lost it completely This world, its people, my dank prison cell obviously, I could not crack their code happy to be alone, solitude grants aggravators a chance to ring a bell vision of the future, locked in the past emancipation freed from this abode figure it all out mustard seed, the ants in the anthill, eaten by an aardvark not that people care, African outcast am I an alien, homesick for space let me out of this suburban nightmare let me go, talons grip to set the pace yes, I am not from this country, you scare leaves off the trees, the nude autumnal park obviously, I am alone in this shellshocked afterthought, trench warfare doughboys taught by mustard seeds when to use gas masks itinerant journeyman, road to bliss traveling judge on their circuit, justice concrete paved sidewalks, asphalt, city noise obviously, I have been given tasks mercy for the underprivileged, the poor pity the poverty stricken, to splice leaves fallen, fashion a rope, ...

Thought this would be for the rest of our lives The potential for excitement, long gone how naive to believe that this could last only time would tell of work and effort under a spell, false hope, now mow the lawn green grass freshly cut smells of violence how the world moves on, values of the past thrown away in the rubbish bin, old sport time to abort the project, late bloomer how fear of addiction made the most sense if the fear of poverty were stronger stronger still the desire to love, now dead witness the world in flux, now, no longer old school values, but now, the price of bread under the bus, thrown for a loop, rumor leaves no innuendo, out the window decisions made, lives lived, over and out bittersweet dark chocolate, swallow the pill emerge from a hermit crab shell, the glow foreign as happiness, joy lost, the cost only one soul, a laugh, a joke, why pout rich as a billionaire, but how to fill the gas tank, privilege learns, entitlement holds the keys...

« Il n’y a qu’un problème philosophique vraiment sérieux : c’est le suicide. » – Albert Camus One day, I will hang myself or GLOCK out Out, damned spot! out, I say! is what she said not knowing that I was dead, that I died evidence to the contrary persists defense objects but why so late, I paid about face, a price to be born, the scorn yes, disgrace, even if an old man cried I know words stretch through tones, tension resists wisdom, the strings on a guitar, rings true initially, justice as if unborn lifts the veil at the altar, bride undead lifts the curtains, audience in a trance humanity sold for a loaf of bread angels, all on the head of a pin, dance notice a graceful style, the old soft shoe given such a pitch how could I resist mischief, the world in a nutshell, aspires yet again to curry favor to prove science as thoughts cannot cease and desist except without thinkers, thoughts create clouds language without mirrors, burn old desires for new flames to a...

Walk away and do not interact with Walled in the besieged port city of Kot awkward glances as I walk past others left behind, an entourage of the king kindness unexpected, a smile, our lot ask not what lies ahead, history proves witnesses do not last, neither mothers agents of creation, what do I bring yes, good question, nothing, or maybe less agents of hope await rescue, the grooves neither loose nor tight as the axle spins decisions made not to suffer from strife distant voices heard, how it all begins obsessed with victory, the jinn breathe life not as the good people dream, I could guess organized hordes break down the western gate terror ensues, unarmed murder and rape instantly, my throat cut and left for dead nothing to do, how to help, such is fate triumphant in their mission, they soon leave exactly how I remember, a cape red with dried blood, covered my corpse, black bread answers my prayers, though I will never speak cowardly slaughter, I am left to g...

What did I do wrong to deserve this life Whispers around the corner, out of sight hands up for Hollywood (Hooray), I hear ask and you shall receive, am I selfish the world suffers, what can I do but fight depression to overcome the sorrow if I am not there, how did I get here difference is unspoken, unsaid, I wish I could just be happy with what I lost diligence to forget, may I borrow organization to get back my youth well, yes, I know, no time left to go back return to childhood past, ask, "What is truth?" only the mind reflects language, I lack not only the knack to pay for the cost given Jesus Christ was born on this day tomorrow, I will not read the good book order the world by principles of love decide religion is not what they say exceptions to the rule but what they do servants of ideology, a rook expresses dismay with the Lord above reserve opinions about religion versions of the truth, is azure a hue empty blue skies, a cloud is but a thought...

A boy beaten by his dad full of rage Acidic balsamic vinegar tastes bland, insipid, basically, hard cider or spiked punch, Sunday brunch, mimosa dry yesterday, grass fire, police, youth wastes brilliance, intelligence, dumb friends, moments eaten, honor dissolved, wide load, wider acceptance, tolerance, again, try, try try, mistakes made, childhood destroyed, self, soul empty-headed, stone cold, sold out, past tense negligent, violent guidance, house rules boy knows better, why sensitive, alarm yesterday, burning brush, jail cell, thread spools honor lost, bonds untied, boy beaten, harm injury, pour salt, insult, unpaid toll suffer ferocity, no pity, none decisions made generations ago absent parents, latch-key kids, sadistic dad, mom, brother, cousins, second-born son forget, forgive, let God, meaning sorrow understand loving-kindness, pain, freak show license, kill, double agent, statistic liquid dreams, lessons learned, abandon hope orbits circle, emptiness, t...

Do not talk, do not trust, and do not feel Do you know how alcohol and sheer rage orders a twelve-year old boy to obey not that this boy listened to the brown bear ordering him not to exit his cage that childhood was full of consequences that to talk back or not mind what they say admits accountability to wear life lived in dread of home, ran away twice killed time, no soul, no self, all expenses decidedly paid under a crawlspace observe spiders and sleep on dirt, cardboard no vacation, no fun, let it out, ace observe tears fall, what joy, pull the ripcord tormented for the rest of time, the price tortured children pay for just being born rust to lick, glass to eat, and rocks to kick until he understood he faced a task sisyphean in nature, how they scorn the need to live beyond the pain of birth answers never ready-to-hand, a trick nothing more, nothing less, wearing a mask disguised, father, mother, brother, no love distance never far enough, lack of worth or a...