The Illusions of Youth
a handful
a heartful
but what part is the truth
dissolved and discarded
like salt in your soup
and you can never get it back
even if you wanted to
because you simply don't want it back.
it flies away
you shoot it down
it crawls away you shoot it down
it scurries down
you shoot it to hell
you did well
and no one's proud of you
grow up
bamboo torture
execution
get things done
what are you gonna do about it?
what you've always done
and the cars hit walls
and the cars hit cars
fighting to be the next to die
in the ouroboral desert race
eating themselves, eating each other
fighting to be the next to die
a handful
dissolved and discarded
they fly away
you shoot them to hell
they run away
you shoot them to hell
waiting in line to be shot to hell
you did well
and no one's proud of you.
you dwelled on the illusions and reduced yourself to mere salt
and you can never wash it off
Copyright © Ramael Ashta | Year Posted 2025
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