a collection of poems written out of spite. out of salacity. out of a form of pride that has surmounted all enough to be declared my own downfall.
all rights reserved. copyrighted in 2018.
#17 in Poetry | 5/10/18
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The problem of our generation is 'now'. Everyone desires results. And, if results cannot be found at an arm's length, there is no reason to continue.
But consider the mind, that spinning vortex of chaos that children, confused in choking anxiety find themselves drowning.
What hope lies in the clutches of 'now'? When now is later? When medicine takes time? What horror shall creep through pulsing neurons?
Healing has always taken time. That is why we are all broken, hands grasping thin air, clutching fleeting promises only to toss them aside for the sake of now.
How can you heal an entire generation that has forgotten how to wait?
