Joe Curtis Poet Free verse

A Crooked World

With-the wholeness of my 
         Eyes-I try,
But this horizon is shortened 
         and my sight is gone. 
Through a skewed world, 
         I question the air, 
                and still breathe it's toxicity.
Accepting it's warped days of 
         fog weighing down.
We are sending
        an anchor to hell.
Watching our skies 
        turn to fire,
and the devil come 
        to be 
But with changing moments, new life, new chances
        for a leveling of us. 
Nevertheless-poor little hopes,
        stand on there feet and fall 
                 from a slanted world. 
Learning to walk 
        a hunched and hazy path.
I ask now with a humid heart. 
         Will this tiring fog ever lift?
                   -Waiting on whispers
         Will this falling ever ground?
                   - Wactching unwearyingly 
All the while, take short breaths 
           and weary steps,
Foresaken, the heavy fog
           Weighs our world in deaths.

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Karl Marszalowicz September 20, 2011 at 2:17 PM this has to be the first cleverly constructed poem I've read in a while bless you for waking me up, that poetry soup can be a good place to come to for smart poets. I wouldn't change much about your poem.