Will this day make up for the last fourteen that I’ve lost to the greed that grew?
Will the words find themselves if I leave them alone, inside, for too long?
Have I left the keys on the counter?
Have I already packed up my things; am I still there somewhere? Or has somebody else already taken my place?
Does she share my memories, or will she have to learn her way around the greed that grew, will she have to learn her way around the greed that grew.
This girl is new in town, she comes from childhood mold and red marks, and only shares the bad memories.
She will always be tangled in the vines of the greed that grew.
It used to grow in the dark, now it grows on freeways and sun lit windows.
It doesn’t ease up and it doesn't negotiate,
this greed that keeps growing.
The greed that grew.
About the Creator
Jamie Ramsay
Every word is chosen from my throat, in the moments I feel too human.
I am your guide into the sinkhole.
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When the Ball-Machine went Haywire
At lunchtime the day it happened, I was sitting sidelong on a bench with my feet up. Another boy and a girl came over so I scrambled up at once, then sat down again with a bump at the far end. I hoped the girl might look at me and say thanks for making room, but no such luck.
By Doc Sherwood4 days ago in Fiction
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I subscribed after the recommendation of your work from Jenny Blue. I am not disappointed and I hope to see more of your work while I peruse your older offerings!