We are a Stand Alone Complex on a Massive Scale
(So....we did a freewrite and I liked the poem, it has no real meaning...I was just stringing words...and half memories)Trapped in my prison.
This concrete jungle devoid of innocence.
Upton Sinclair would be proud at this point.
My stale coffee,
My chipped nail polish and,
My dirty t-shirt
These are all becoming my recognizable features
as one in the new version of a young age.
Coporate America!
Stop the press!
Hold the news!
Love is in the air, we met.
Frat house.
Alcohol.
And the topic of the right and prime conversation.
Star Wars.
The sweet scent of him.
The taste of his lips.
I am tumbling into a deep abyss
My insomniatic babble,
overturning thoughts in rapid succession,
stunning succession,
Can't you see?
Are you blind man?
Or are you just not trying man?
For we are the twenty-somethings.
Taking the imagery and syntax of the world by storm
Leaders of the uprising.
New Era Hippies
Peace! Peace!
Is my ballad!
Peace! Peace!
Is my Warcry!
I'll sing to you -
lovely symbol of my innocence lost
I'll cry for you-
my hearts contentment
I'll die for you-
a message for all to open
I am a letter.
I am a symbol.
I am that which resides in oblivion.
See me,
Taste me,
Whisper to me,
I love you.


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