Momma said there’d be days like this… well no she didn’t but there are days I look at the man she married and I just one to put a bullet through my skull. “Grave Perfection” I believe is the only way that everyone would be pleased, a perfect me I suppose.
The path of perfection
Down
Heaven and Hell’s intersection
To be found
Pure and good
If I ever was
I think I should
Existence enough
* * *
The mind
Empty and blank
Such little time
Before I forsake
Blindness and ignorance
To see the truth
Why try to live
With any of you
What is happiness?
Pure and good, what fun
My mind such a mess
And the barrel of a warm gun
* * *
The heart
Love is bloody
But I was a part
Before it got sunny
My heart is an organ
Nothing lovely
If I could ignore it
Because it was ugly
Ripped and torn apart
Too loud
Beats no more my heart
We’re happy now
* * *
The soul
In a corpse’s shell
My mother holds
Before sending me to Hell
I don’t want this life
What I am, behold
Why can’t I fly?
The Abomination holds my soul
Kills it, murders it
Because I can’t be
Perfect
If I’m me
* * *
Like Winston Smith
I am the last
It
So who will blast?
To die as me
Or a correction
What do you seek?
Grave Perfection
Copyright © 2011, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.
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