Some poems from a lesser known poet that I really enjoy.
“How in the world could it be.
The most miserable in life.
Have seen the least strife.
And can’t even spell empathy.”
Was Ernie right just open a vein,
He couldn’t escape the pain.
What is the price of a soul laid bare.
Is it worth any amount of fortune or fame.
Would a million cauterize crimson brilliance.
Afford a chance to once again dance,
Without problem or care.
Is he shackled to bitter circumstance.
Perhaps twould help to show despair
And shed one last tear, on bosom once held dear.
Is it even worth any chance.
For one who does not even care.
Perhaps the answer is to rejoin with those he did play.
The liars and thieves with hearts full of decay.
To reclaim pathetic indifferent stance.
And once again congregate with those who betray.
Shall he just return to his cave,
Or seek unfindable solace in nave.
Hidden away and left to decay.
A heart full of beauty, no one can save.