Poem for Day 103 – 20150413
Cold steel, to stop the anger.
Molded lead, cease the worry.
A step away from nothing,
all to allow blessed mercy,
bring my torture to an end.
Remedies made permanent,
so much the better I say.
Temporary fixes are little better
than air freshener sprayed
in a pit of decaying limbs.
Shout the rage, struggle about.
Shoot the shot, so much better now.
Tranquil numbness spreading outward,
Forgetting the dream of cold steel,
as the world drops back into place.
© 2015. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved