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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required I wish you would’ve told me, That I was no longer worth your time. Your back-handed alabaster murmurs Stroll passed my skeptical exhales As I greeted you like adults should But, your whitened pupils Spoke louder Than your failed dreams To be a people-person I wish you would’ve said That I no longer held value in your agendas An irreplaceable animosity That you now hold dear Through every fault of my own, Allegedly Though I hungered for brighter days, I always shared my buffet of hopes To the masses waiting With opened palms, Sweaty vindications Where did I really stand at the peak of your cold shoulder? I’ll never know. But, I should’ve known. My internal sadness remembers this feeling. I was good enough to draw the map. But, a failure at being the driver. What did I need to give, to sacrifice, to be taken seriously? Were you afraid I was going to steal the hooves Off your high-horse I wanted us to matter. I wanted us to be the HUMAN in our “HUMANity”! But, all I received were whiffs of a beggar’s glue And smiles from a snooty gum line You threw my elaborated grin into frigid waters Foolishly insisting I drown in my recycled sorrows As you “wish me well in my future endeavors” Another shuffled song of the sanctimonious haberdasher, The wicked unicorn wearing rusted halo, The speech impeded leper Waxing lyrics of a decomposing composition Ink of our pens, emptied Its feathery tip forcibly removed for wanting to fly. You adamantly clamor behind the scenes Like harmonious vasectomies Bellowing wisdom from siren’s smile Because you knew it all A glorified list of search results With no value of your own But, now, I have chosen a side. I have chosen to remove you from my equation. I will remove you from my hopes & dreams, My garden unseen And I hear the echoes of my constipated madness My consummated sadness Begging me to stand down And be a good boy NEVER AGAIN. You had me at my best. You couldn’t look at me during my worst, Blind & bound by your diseased red-tape Stowed away in your lackadaisical mantle I only wanted to be a part of something. … …now you register your vilified hopelessness On fickle parchment Your rancid tears ascend into carbonized air As I draw lines within my exonerated dialect I exorcise your falsehoods And slow dance with your fractured well-wishes My tomorrow shall become an empowered strut. I wish you would’ve had the classy vernacular To tell me I no longer matter. Look at me now, Now, Now, I will do you the favor. ©D.J.E.
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