25.05.20_22:23 The winds swirl around me, Empty of all, save a fine grit, Abrasive and slowly eroding, One repetitive day at a time Until it’s finally over, Six feet under or the oven, And life no longer plucks at You.
*NOTE- the first video contains images of squirming bugs if you’re triggered/squeamish about them I suggest listening without watching or searching for another version of the songs
I watch my shadow from noon to dusk,
Ever growing in size and lust,
Making me taller than a redwood tree
And stretching the limit of what I can be.
Until the fading sun falls all the way down
And I am beyond the starry lights of town.
Now lost and one with the black nothingness
I am left to mourn my colossal, black hubris.
I kick a stone as I walk home alone,
Struggling to forget the hope I was shown
And accept that I am an ego confined by flesh:
A spirit trapped, and a man depressed.
In the park there stands an old oak.
I know not how aged it is,
But it was here before I was
And it will remain long after I do not.
Every morning I pass by its thick trunk,
The oak waves its branches, goodbye.
And every night I drunkenly stumble home,
It’s standing still, in silent judgment.
Even when I dash past and miss its farewell
In the rush to catch the last possible train
To $9.50 an hour misery with no future,
I know the stoic oak is standing there,
Gayly laughing at my fleeting and meaningless struggles.
Poet's Corner 