The menagerie that is my life.
The way fish fill a river
I look around for sight and sound
From this boredom I wish to be delivered
Cigarettes light my nights
Caffeine gets me through the day
I keep on wondering if it's right
To keep carrying on this way
Then I think of right and wrong
And whether I should care or not
In my head I bang a gong
And try to remember what I forgot
Cigarette smoke dances 'round me
Caffeine wakes me up
As I smoke under a tree
From the breast of Death I suck
They tell me that it's God's will
They tell me that it's Fate
But the empty hours can't be filled
And I don't have the will to wait
What God do they speak of ?
One that preaches of War and Peace ?
One that preaches of Hate and Love?
One that makes home in the heavens above where mortal men can't reach ?
Slowly I understand my universe
And I wonder if understanding is a curse
Cigarette ashes cover the floor
Caffeine starts wearing off
As I make my way to the door
I think of Life as a whore
The smoke rises from the ashes and I begin to cough.
Poetry by Jack R. Schade
Read 506 times
Written on 2009-04-21 at 22:09
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Today
Boredom fills my daysThe way fish fill a river
I look around for sight and sound
From this boredom I wish to be delivered
Cigarettes light my nights
Caffeine gets me through the day
I keep on wondering if it's right
To keep carrying on this way
Then I think of right and wrong
And whether I should care or not
In my head I bang a gong
And try to remember what I forgot
Cigarette smoke dances 'round me
Caffeine wakes me up
As I smoke under a tree
From the breast of Death I suck
They tell me that it's God's will
They tell me that it's Fate
But the empty hours can't be filled
And I don't have the will to wait
What God do they speak of ?
One that preaches of War and Peace ?
One that preaches of Hate and Love?
One that makes home in the heavens above where mortal men can't reach ?
Slowly I understand my universe
And I wonder if understanding is a curse
Cigarette ashes cover the floor
Caffeine starts wearing off
As I make my way to the door
I think of Life as a whore
The smoke rises from the ashes and I begin to cough.
Poetry by Jack R. Schade
Read 506 times
Written on 2009-04-21 at 22:09
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text|
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