Gazes
This is a poem from the first collection, "Hello Mr. Satan, You're an Idiot!"
Smoking in a room full of sad faces
My train derails
A slippery situation
Now, I’m in a melted picture
While everything seems to be
creaming voices, insulting poses,
intoxicated roses
-
My soul stinging
I sit shooting glassy gazes
My aura dim and out of shine
I need a new fixture
Dropping names,
taking all the blame,
never sought fame
-
Smoking my soul
With a bunch of fools
full of whispering howls
My train with no brakes
Now, I’m just made of crystal
Ready to shatter, no one is flattered,
taking no matter
-
Shaking my head
I sit absorbing gazes
This mutual atmosphere
Needs a new medium
Dropping my vices
to help out my perfect friend
living and gazing in the mirror
-
By Bazooka Teaches
About the Creator
Bazooka Teaches
A regular Joe that is just surviving the struggle. Loves to write and is constantly fighting the forces of evil.
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Spectating
I can't imagine dying like this, in a place like this; on a cold, dirty pavement with rush hour traffic screaming by and a crowd looking on while paramedics struggle to find space to move. Who could? Deep down we all think there should be a reason, a moment of clarity... or a family presence, at least. For this man, this boy, the rail thin woman lighting a cigarette in a faux fur jacket will have to do - she's been here since the start, her eyes tracking the movement of my shoulders as we fight to keep him on the right side of the line.
By S. A. Crawford6 days ago in Fiction
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