Below is the poem entitled Sordid reality which was written by poet
Knight-Kirby. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.
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Tick tock the chiming clock moments captured by the repetitive knock silence and isolation
Can’t hold on to this, though it’s what I got.
It’s certainly not what I want and how do I use when I have
Nothing in this world no paperwork to show I am worthy no credentials to show I am real.
Pathetic state of affairs not my fault this world is evil I didn’t make the banks or deceive people
All I want is what we masses seek happiness and financial freedom having the capacity to break
Free from this bull*****logic and unfair reason eating half a bowl of pasta every other day sleeping
In a cupboard rotting motions of decay looking for work applying everyday nothing comes my way.
Other than the forlorn light of McDonald’s or some other soul destroying duty hard work
Is not beneath me and I am beyond seeking further education I am older now and paying retribution
By neglected fermentation. How do I pay my rent and live my life with no hours committed to earning
The peanuts to survive for no opportunity seeks me no family and poor friends under the same feeling
Broken down and beaten senseless not physically but that danger is still uncertain squalor
Fortunes my soul like the crashing waves of a open Atlantic storm alive epic and unreal infected
By the chemicals they use to dumb us into submission filling the streets with numerous addictions
Then telling us it’s illegal and why should we care it’s our life and our unhappy despair destitute
And most knowledgeable and aware and how do I reach a position that I can initiate a conclusion
To what I need to be doing and what I feel is a solution that reaches the heights of my potential
The greasy pole covered in vines and weeds hidden in a desert with high wind speeds everything changing
Trying to find the trail when i once started the end of my road is bleak and dark and I know I need to
Return but my eyesight has diminished among the spinning cruel and unforgiving earth and what prays
Save a man like me what manna beseech me other than a nice skunk spliff and perhaps a cup of tea.