On God And Mourning
I zombie-walk through my day,
Knowing time eases the pain,
And life continues, unarranged
By me, or any other force which is at play.
Sentient beings do not rule this planet.
Only mindless children who crush, and laugh at pain.
Magnifying glass in hand, they chortle
As they burn my brain
With the knowledge she will not walk again
Upon this earth or hold my hand.
Vicious gods who stole my mother's soul
And made her parted, before they made her whole.
God does not care. God is a demented bully,
A psychopath, who tortures bunnies and
Spits in old womens' faces.
7/26/2009
On Being Orphaned
I am an emotional leper.
Bits of me fail, and fall.
Heart, held together by hope
And duct tape,
Destroyed.
No room left for pain.
Only a shallow shell shall stay.
All else is consumed in the flame.
7/19/2009
Dear god,
It's a lousy trick,
You selfish prick,
To go ahead and take my mom.
To put her through hell,
Then say, "Oh well.
It's time for you to to be gone."
To be poked and cut
Like a mangy mutt,
Then dropped, dead, on the bathroom floor,
Scared and hurt.
You sack of dirt!
Your servant deserved something more.
If I lacked more proof that you are not.
Thanks for the tip. That's what I've got.
7/20/2009
Knowing time eases the pain,
And life continues, unarranged
By me, or any other force which is at play.
Sentient beings do not rule this planet.
Only mindless children who crush, and laugh at pain.
Magnifying glass in hand, they chortle
As they burn my brain
With the knowledge she will not walk again
Upon this earth or hold my hand.
Vicious gods who stole my mother's soul
And made her parted, before they made her whole.
God does not care. God is a demented bully,
A psychopath, who tortures bunnies and
Spits in old womens' faces.
7/26/2009
On Being Orphaned
I am an emotional leper.
Bits of me fail, and fall.
Heart, held together by hope
And duct tape,
Destroyed.
No room left for pain.
Only a shallow shell shall stay.
All else is consumed in the flame.
7/19/2009
Dear god,
It's a lousy trick,
You selfish prick,
To go ahead and take my mom.
To put her through hell,
Then say, "Oh well.
It's time for you to to be gone."
To be poked and cut
Like a mangy mutt,
Then dropped, dead, on the bathroom floor,
Scared and hurt.
You sack of dirt!
Your servant deserved something more.
If I lacked more proof that you are not.
Thanks for the tip. That's what I've got.
7/20/2009
