PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I often find myself

Staring down at the world

From thirty thousand feet

Wondering

Is this the flight that will bring me down?



Wishful thinking

For a guilt-free exit

“I didn’t do it, it was the plane!”



And a premature death

Out of your hands

Is so much more tragic…



“Poor guy… he was so young!”



I briefly met

During recent travels

A young man named Erik

Ten years my junior



One night, after a party

He went home to his room

And seemingly choked

To death

On peanuts and vomit



He was, by far

The youngest employee

Who’d been sent

To this godforsaken place



“Poor guy… he was so young!”



I often find myself

Staring in the mirror

From many worlds away

Wondering

Whether the next fuck will bring me down



Wishful thinking

For a certain exit

“I did it, it was all me!”



And a premature death

Through your own hands

Is so much more pathetic…



“Served him right… the irresponsible fucker!”