Fuck, just fuck, fuck every
last goddamn thing,
Maybe, just maybe, hanging
by a thread attached to a string,
They, just they, no I, so maybe
it may,
Black and blue, inside, run
through,
But marching forward just to
see you,
Fall of life, before winter's
song,
Path of pain, tread only by
the strong,
None stronger, still, weak,
Meak, bleak, but hopeful
still,
Empty, ghost, groping for
its' fill,
Dripping eyes, fighting,
thus it dies blighting,
Cries like thunder and
lightning...
-END-
(C) D.C. Chapman
10/5/2012
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