it’s a bleak ‘ole world out there

sure is, and uncertain, creepy

monster beneath every bed

slept in, oh it’s a bleak assertive

world and it’s grimacing over

leaning into lifetimes that have

yet succeeded and now deemed

failures, there ain’t no good religion

anytime thru’ out struggling

and winter’s a coming it’s

horde of shrunk pockets and

unemployment, deploys mean

miserly spirited

salvation ain’t in that numbness

swallowing inches of hourly

absinthe so that everywhere is

blurry and so clearly unwanted

there isn’t enough sweet music

worldly or otherwise to lift up the

lead tunes of blood being sombre,

out there is panic and often going under

unsteady to dream now, unwise

to let such thoughts glow, only

avenues of disappointment is

the least of it all

unsure of the footsteps that

seem to lead true nowhere

still we stride, advancing

to? no soul has a clue

wise if i stood still, let the

pause take to it’s blue roots

that seek to find that blue

river all songs seem drowned in

melancholy be has dull

skyscrapers inside of

precipices, windows all

inked and introverted

it’s so hard finding tomorrow

that old planet out there

reeks despair loudly, too

numerous heart shaped daggered

there’s burden about enough

that atlas gave up and bores

himself in uniformly suburbs

pulling atoms from a skull

seldom quite often inspires

into nothing, a nondescript poet

too shrugged with formats that

pages appear unconscious

why does the nowadays sky

appear so low it sinks everyone

further into their unachievable


that future is conceded and

struggles tied up in burlap

sack waiting to be thrown off

the pier’s lifelessness

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