Our candy jars and sticky hands
Isn't this the folly of man?
Just one piece and then one more
And reach again
Too many left.
Pretty colors contrast shades of gray
This chemical can never stay
Less of sin and more of nature
A biological mistake
Mirage.
Emptiness can never be filled
Only stilled, only stilled
Sit with it
Sit on those hands
You're cutting yourself on the glass.
Ornate display lulling still
The folly misguided free will
Dopamine damnation kiddo
Have you even had your dinner?
Time to break the jar.
About the Creator
M.C. Murphy
Words have the power to change everything.
Keep reading
More stories from M.C. Murphy and writers in Poets and other communities.
We'z Walking on a Path Ruled By Numbers
This road has felt endless, yet limited; every step tracked. Inching away along this path, I feel trapped. Confined. Left to this narrow passage that may one day amount to something greater. Time is not a concept. Only distance. From start to finish, I laugh and cry and attempt to convince myself that this is worth it. I cannot stray. I must keep going. Every step etched, is a step taken, is measured as more than before. I cannot even recall how I got here. Maybe I don’t even really exist. Just another tick marking off a perceived presence. Of what though? I am just another line drawn. Nothing more, nothing less.
By Oneg In The Arctic7 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
It is so true...a candy lover can never get enough. Only come to a stopping point, only to be drawn back for more.i.know. That is how it works for me. Your poem describes it perfectly