PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Cycles of monotony

Slower than they ought to be

Passing by so sloppily

As if they pose no threat

Threat of torture, threat display

Threats of life with great decay

Threats of days with new delays

That send you back the other way

But you can home and self-indulge

Self-dilute and self-divulge

To pass the time until the crawl

That leads you back to building walls

Thus you'll stand in the pitch black

That serves as your containment sack

And keeps you bouncing off the walls

Until you feel you can't shout back

Your mouth will dry to barren cracks

Your heart may yet still be intact

But you will find it hard and fat

And you will force it somewhere flat

Until it is, you will be seen

As something clever or obscene

And you'll be rich or laid to rest

In the graves of Morning Sheen.