Potential Gone

Trudge home All alone Can’t condone What I feel inside Can’t abide What constitutes My whole My soul My hope for What is to come What is to some Their whole life An allergy An allegory Of their whole existence Their whole subsistence In the long drawn- Out years Rolled out in front Of you. Dispensed In time A specious crime Tempted to make Tempted to sate Your long lost dreams That have been Lent out To someone new To someone younger Than you And you are left Empty Left plenty Of something? Nothing No excitement No enticement To that glistening, Mist revealing path No mirror reflection Of your past That blasted And opened your eyes To the addictions To the fiction In their bodies, The illnesses Created by God As a folly To our greed, As a folly To their seed That created A new psychosis Ripping through Bulldozing anything true The crimes of insanity Crimes of humanity: Rapes, murder, assault . These are the genes I wear That have Teared Through my heart Left at its core A lust For stardom For brilliance To save the world To help wrap-up Those curled- Up within their Beaten bodies To help those Whose Luck turned Inside out Had cast a doubt All this Was my destiny My reason For being For seeing All the past Destruction Past obstruction To happy Functioning Lives But the poison Has caught up Within my brain And drained All the energy Away Paying For the transparent Sins of my past. In my dark Hooded cloak, Soaked Through To my Weary bones Feet scraping Across The ground, I trudge home.