Passive Predators

alcoholicpoet.com

this poem is a about the frailty of humanity's power. 


the world gives us different names. empty identities that betray our faces.

the world purchases our voices. dirty pennies in the fists of strangers.

touch is an architect. building everything from nothing.

we are curious carpenters. dressed in crumbling walls.

spent quickly. by both the wolves and the lambs.

the truth is a disease for which only grief is the cure.

we are inadequate gods. in a dilapidated utopia.

stubborn engineers. chasing the remnants of tomorrow.


Filed under: October 2024 Sad Poetry