When the nails scrape the board
screams only I can hear
I'd like to leave
get off this ride
laughter is the Devil's wail
unholy glee fail, misery's chant
set to damn me when I ask
why is this to my ears?
Then my sight betrays my heart
what could be dear is only dust
a swirl that mocks beauty's chance
to convince me of its relevance
perhaps the near tears in my eyes
moisture waiting to break free
clouds my sight, blocks my view
of creation not from Hell.
The cruelest jest is of touch
I'd best go if all that waits
is temporary, teasing curse
not meant to linger where it counts
while I don't ask for the perv
abomination in the flesh
I'd still like to know the earth
touchstone for this soul distressed.
© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170425.