Melancholy and the Shining Light

Looking into their perfect world

Their auras bright, their smiles gold

Nobody warned me it would be this cold

On the outskirts of Heaven

I get to see my family’s joy

As they get to greet a little boy

To whom they bought him a little toy

When he wasn’t in Heaven

Meanwhile, I’m here outside

I wasn’t let in, but I really tried

For what felt an eternity, I’ve cried

That I can’t join them in Heaven

My soul, now all but gone

Feeling my end of days being drawn

I’m nothing more than the Devil’s pawn

Because I’m not in Heaven

Slowly cracking, turning to ice

I let my mortal soul turn to vice

To that boy, I wasn’t very nice

And I sent him to Heaven

So, that’s the end of the line for me

Formerly blinded, now I see

That’s the Lord’s salvation really was free

But I did not choose Heaven

Their attention and eyes, glued for hours

Our air sacrificed for cooling towers

What has become of this world of ours?

All for the next silly meme

While the people lose their power

What has become of the American Dream?

Up in Washington, they don’t care

All they see is how their stock fairs

And the people are losing their clean air

When will this madness end?

It will take our collective prayer

For every single knee, will bend

Let’s stay inside, just for another day,

What is the worst this apathy could do?

You let the heavy, woven fabric stay,

It binds against your body like a glue.

And in the dark, what has become of you?

There is so little left you can enjoy.

Just endless glowing screens to filter through,

A hollow, shallow dopamine decoy.

You trade away your future like a toy,

While sinking deeper in the stifling warm.

There is no strength left in you to deploy,

The blanket now an anchor to your form.

You try to throw the heavy covers out,

But find the silence swallows every shout.

At the end of a sterilized hall 

Under one flickering light 

A jagged, violent scrawl: 

“Restroom closed for the night.”

Industrial bleach stings your nose 

The chemical scent of a sin 

In his mask and his BBP clothes 

He’ll ensure that no one gets in.

He clacks the yellow belt to the door 

And casts one sharp look around 

Does he know that his sleeve has tore? 

When she grabbed it, it did make a sound…

As you continue on your way 

The questions claw at your mind

If you had only just said “Hey,” 

You’d have seen what he left behind

Yet another life is lost

To the man who scrubs and cleans 

In his eyes, they must pay the cost— 

By any and all means

Another evening in this dim old car
Nearly no one at the bar.
The scent of oak and bourbon lingers,
She grips the glass with trembling fingers.

But something about her, doesn’t seem quite right
She’s not slurring her words, not in the slight
Despite her having eight in a row
Always looking down, her eyes never show

As we pass through a tunnel, the cabin grows dark
She looks up, her eyes glowing like a spark
The moon returns, the shadows flee
An empty glass is all I see

I wake with a start when the floorboards groan,
Back in my bed, but not quite alone.
She visits in nightmares, a permanent guest,
The spark in the dark never lets me rest.

I think I’ll start posting here again

Thank you for visiting and reading

More to come.

“Poem about the chicken bag stuffy being sentient but unable to communicate in any way“

Over and over they stuff my bottom

My family forsaken me, my legacy forgotten

And all to use me as a place for bags

With every piece of trash, my organs sag

Slowly and surely, they continue to shop

I don’t know my limit, but why won’t they stop?

We already have plenty here at home

I wish I were with my friends, where I could roam

But instead I got turned into this bag stuffy

My intestines pushing against me, feeling more puffy

Soon enough, my life will end

But I don’t think they will never spend.

Another swipe, another show

Will this ever end? You already know.

The more you feed it, the more it grows

Nothing more than a puppet, in Algorithm’s show

Through thousands of years of society

Nothing to show for it but impiety

But with the neverending, evergrowing anxiety

Can you be blamed, with all this variety?

Put your phone down, go outside

For too long, your boredom has been denied

What you thought was within you had died

Was waiting for you, your inner guide

Now is the time to wake up and choose

To take one tiny step, in your favorite shoes

You need to stay goodbye to those melancholy blues

When you listen to yourself, you can never lose

This room now empty, but it once did hold

Millions of lives, cut short by the endless need

Of unneeded consumption, now never-ending cold

All to continue the destructive, careless breed

To consume, to continue, to not give a damn

The more we make, the more bodies we can jam

We hear not their cries, maybe once, we should heed

No matter how much you clean 

No matter what you do

Anyone who walks in will be keen

To the hell they are put through

As the scientists upstairs split another gene

To make a fattier bacon, for you

And you won’t even bat an eye

As you dig into your shepherd’s pie

If only, if only, you knew