PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Hiding in the rooms we build.  We remain shells of our former selves.  Life is unknown to us.  The fools and winos are quarantined.  The safety mothers run rampant on the rights of the individual.  Don’t do this.  Don’t do that.  We must all live in white rooms with rubber walls.  In our self inflicted impotence we can live safely.  We can live happily without risk of accident.  The perfection of our society—no it’s no good.  I say it’s no good. . .no one will ever listen to reason. . .screaming at the top of our lungs; we are still unheard by masses. . .

Quarantined visions

guttural screams from the lung

we reclaim our lives