tired (a poem)

220px-Street_gutter_in_Old_Town_Stockholmtired of the rhyming bull-shit, flowery, gentle hugs

of today’s poetry

tired of sunshine beams, rainbows with comfortable temps.

i want smelly hooker, dark alley cum-stained fingers

feeling up the innocents, making mouths gape, screaming for help and

thrown into the stank puddles reflecting the gutters of real life.

tired of feel good dreams, idealistic dreams, dreams that only enlighten 1%.

i want the dejected, the forgotten, the pushed aside, the foreheads with spit dripping down into an eye that’s been forced shut for too long.

i want welfare, bad cheese, half smoked cigs, Boones farm cheap-ass wine, i want 40 ounces of beer that smells like homeless ass

that makes the bowels remember who is on the bottom rung.

i want real pain, i want real emotion, i want a real experience from someone on this fucking planet.

tired of all the happy shit,

it’s ok not to smile.

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8 thoughts on “tired (a poem)

  1. I like this. A lot.
    It’s real and honest and raw. And reminds me that it’s okay not to smile.
    Thanks for letting me stop by and read!
    (I found my way over here from Xanga…and found many Xanga friends here. But, now I am finally branching out to read some sites of people I don’t know yet.)

    • Thanks, I appreciate the kind comments and thank you for taking the time to read and comment. I used to be on Xanga a while ago too. Glad you found your way here. I look forward to reading your blog. Take care

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