Accused publicly
Dragged through the mud
Stabbed in the heart
Pinned to the cross
Humiliated defaced
Forsaken on my own
No one to take my part
Or even listen to my side
I may as well be mute
The verdict has been cast
Everyone is satisfied
Except me voiceless faceless me
I’ve been thrown under the bus
They’ve gotten rid of me
AP: Honorable Mention 2022
Posted on December 12, 2018
As a boy, was told anyone could become prez
Now I definitely believe it much to my distress
Doubted it strongly
Till Mister Wrongly
Managed to hoodwink us causing us stress
As a boy, was told anyone could become prez
Now I definitely believe it much to my distress
Doubted it strongly
Till Mister Wrongly
Managed to hoodwink us causing much stress
You click my lonely heart
every night with mouse
but each time you find
no message inbox
Then you make conclusion
that no message inbox
implies I am illiterate
in the computer of love
But you make silly mistakes
You click wrong files
sometimes deleted ones
surely how can you find love?
Let you click in the right files
What you want you will find
Vass Mack doo im denn lederhosen? Vass Mack doo im den bett? So feeler loiter imm denn arbent. Frei frei drey. Skipping in a motorway cafe. Surfing in a lane. Motels full of moo. And moisture derived from a plant. Oh great leaf of leaves. How wonderful. How explosive and erotic the Zen like military precision of a tampered live performance and a jeopardy swung with an iron rope. Wielding an axe then. In a sub continent a prawn sunbathes only at left angles to the sun. Whilst the world sleeps. A fish claps. A wave sings. And a moon laughs. Sin in the bin then. Singing an aria to the trumpeting swans who swarm many metres above this globe. Canopy. Cacti. Call. Cakes. Calligraphy. Can. Ice tray flake not on a boom zoom board as the radiation leaks in a circular circulating pattern. 5.6 zebras. Xxxxxxx ha and I will have a dainty cup in the garden ball with all the ornaments. Xxxxx
Crippled to my knees,
bowing my head,
the rain pours over my offerings,
as blood runs from my head.
Tears mix well with the substances
and neither pain nore happiness will register.
Staring at the picture of my loves,
I swear to them I'd do anything,
Oh how I miss them So!
Carry on a whispered urge,
but it is not my wish.
I wish to be with those dear to me,
on a summer set of always busy,
and yet it seems I cannot be for
I am lost except to thee,
whom is my very dearest pain.
My heart that pines for the past,
when the future grins so bleak.