Fragility
We are all destined to feed ourselves
And in turn feed the world.
Upset the balance and everything
Comes down.
Gravity has no purpose in dreams
Like deviance, defiance
And subjugation.
Every facet of the imagination
Wilts
As though its foundation has settled,
Ready to die.
We have become
A concept of our own science,
Fortunate enough
To decide between writhing and coughing,
Desolate and less concerned
Of who we are supposed to be,
Yet we are being eaten alive.
It doesn't matter where the blood comes from,
For no exit stands unbridled.
Nothing genuine is leaving this place
But the spirit.
Life is as fragile
As it is valuable,
And imaginations are dangerous
Like cute kittens
Riddled with disease.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
