Night Out


we say "why does it look like day when it's close to eleven"
subconsciously conversing about poison and heaven
we find it harder cause the night doesn't barter
and the daylight is a nightlight to a bleeding martyr
what can we do but agree and spend
our whole paycheck on tablets to make us forget
we think it's unfair that a poison so sweet
is worth more than the food that we eat

but it's beginning to darken and it feels quite stark then
then the cloud moves and the earth's moon like a star once again
and we struggle with the blue heat and the bottles can be seen
and the cars go with their green glow completing the whole scene
it's the city and its crying, people hung out for drying
and the cold grass and the old laughs, are mostly denying
no not the wolves or the pigs or the humans are lying
the city streets are arteries to a body whose dying

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems


Share This Poem