Best Cesspool Poems
The cunningness I feel is near:
It tries coming for a stay
Living within a beast, I once lived in
It's a bit dangerous wanting my play.
I have to be careful, now, right:
Staying in the right of my light
By this, odious toxin that's near
It likes to fight at my nights, I fear.
It made me sick a lot of times:
Lusting its seducing bite in me, crimes
Its promises turn into untrustworthy lies
Here is a sinister demon that terrifies.
It teases me with its pleasures:
Oh, one of a kind, it is, no measures
Telling me that I need it to survive
A bewildering demon, I've lost, run hide!
Every day seems like a struggle lately:
Keeping a sinister entrapped at its bay
These demons are up prowling to entice, be
Awaiting its day to play with me!
It feeds on my aches of pains:
Mind, the guilts, the greed that has stained
The more I hurt inside fighting, being real
The more this, slither, comes to steal.
I sensed life had enough of me:
My spirit was crushed, hurt, torn apart
Its Roar stood, heard for miles, miles I say
A venom beast has awakened, now bites.
This poison, I once craved:
The feel, pushing temptations
To care about absolutely nothing
Not even for myself, deliberations.
This slither came to suck the life out of me,
To bring the poison, sinister closer in
Though the bag, done gone that day
I've yet to lose, to this poisoning again
A malevolence venom, I once craved
Have yet to win within.
Death In the Cesspool
Forget the dead, there faces never smile,
nor do they fret about life's uphill climb,
but if one must, 'tis good to cry a while,
remembering they've died from age or crime.
Or if you're of a mind to dance and sing,
while laying dead down to their resting place,
the world should never say a single thing,
as life goes on in its redeeming grace.
And if you think you'll never be the same,
what manner of a fool would want to stay,
here in this garbage heap and stupid game;
here in the pits of hell and death's decay?
We'll sanctify the church. Nativity.
The temple mount. The wall.
And drown ourselves in pee.
© ron wilson
Stagnating....
Suffocating.....
Stifled....
In this
Silent....
Sombre...
Sanguisugent....
Cesspool
If they’re testy? Play the fool.
Let those words line a cesspool.
Shade cannot rattle a cloud,
it remains plotting head bowed.
The POTUS, "Napoleon Bonaspur",
has once again created quite a stir.
The Lincoln Reflecting Pool
looks just like a big cesspool
and that makes him look like an amateur.