Poem: “Untitled”

The maze is long, the fog is thick,
The ladder is dripping with rain.
The cut is deep, the memory’s intact,
And there’s nothing to eat but more pain.
The chamber is wide, the margin is thin,
The paper is folded and taped.
The mind is empty, the heart is full,
And somebody’s soul has been raped.
The way is hindered, the door is locked,
Escape is futile at best.
No one’s concerned with the clock on the wall,
They’re too eager to die with the rest.


From my upcoming book: Existential Bullshit. Stay tuned for more details on the release.

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