Erasure

Dysfunctional dystopian family

Caressing the cheek of death 

Laughing vividly at the jokes

Made by Satan’s pawn,

And Satan’s spawn

Galavants joyfully in the mess

Made by the children of yesterday,

For the future never existed,

Only the present and the past 

Since the start of time. 

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In bed with depression; I think I fell in love with my sorrows.
It’s about time the Angel of Death collected the time I borrowed.
The devil served me well, it’s a shame my faith didn’t follow…
Father forgive me for my sins, I pray you save my soul tomorrow.
But tomorrow never comes, will I ever be free?
I’m beginning to lose sleep, eternity is my prison.

I can sense the end drawing nearer,
I’m hoping this painting of my life gets clearer.
I’m so used to the rainy days, I prepare for grey clouds.
I don’t have 20-20 vision but my third eye can see whether the weather will be better.
The calm before the storm…
It’s time to wear my crown of thorns.

I wrote this for the sinners, the depressed and those living in fear
The suicidal kids and the parents not prepared for the next year
It’s a shame these words will fall on deaf ears.
For those of you who read this, embrace your peers;
Accept their flaws, their mistakes, their fears.

My words, my story, my form and my thoughts,
The abstract architecture of my soul is now yours.
All I ask is for you, the noble philosophers,
To remember the tales of this false poet.

False Poet