Homo Narcissius and EchoesHomo Narcissicus
the whole spirit of feminity and masculinity
the yin and yang, of humanity.
would be like me.
just another human
happy all the time, but doesnt really know why.
the phase of the moon tells me nothing.
Veneral religion, believe in your pater and mater.
it begun in the nursery, and would end.
the polished poetic lives in the everyday life.
another lie sober and discarded.
inject a serum from others who got
the same poison... so it still cure?
choke on a elixir.
you're my friend.
on the fat boulevard somebody screams; Death.
everybody became silent where they stood
nibbling on their fried angel wings. laughting inside.
As the explicit eclipse came closer and the last
man fell off board, the professional arsehole
standing on his chair throwing out points trying
to bring stains of ugliness on the artful society but
the polisher is faster to take away the wastes.
blaim it on the puppet.
because it wasn't we.
we never lost control... you see.
we cannot do anything wrong.
they fill my arteries with floating glass
so it will come to my heart.
-Well, they always said a heart of glass.
i slowly got opened, like a flower.
but it all pour out, all this water in my lungs.
when i swallowed my spit. every lie i
covered for myself, just to show her...
on the high sublime pedestal, what have
i ever created, a moon, a star?. Nothing.
what have i done?, i dont even know.
blinded by light, i followed the dark moon.
then i looked again.
it was time to repel
but where was the last exit
in the long corridor of locked doors.
Poetry by asshole
Read 813 times
Written on 2007-10-18 at 02:22
Tags Anarchy  Desperation  Society
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