God Sack Your Corporal

My Earth,
My sad dieing mother,
Agnate undercover,
Emancipate the lover or another,
She’s shivering cold,
Vibrating slower,
Thank God for global warming,
Looming legends of evil descend on me,
Battered temple roof,
And the rich live a life aloof,
Devoid of any vow or proof of substance proud,
Skin bleeding scoured,
How many times do I have to find myself in the middle of this cloud,
I can’t touch the soft capillary of aqueous of the mother’s bower,
A floating tower where poets write of but are never aloud,
Fly at great speeds and yet find no place other then my own Prozac parallel hell and bind,
Why is my opportunity and path so difficult to find.
God sack your corporal, and sell that adviser blind.

[Back to Top]