Conversations with the End

alcoholicpoet.com

A dark poem about how the end comes for us all.


the empty amenities of skin parse our choices.

the colors of time dance on our lips.

there are lies to be told.

we choke on the maps they draw.

those places leave us too easily.

bits of bone in the jaws of conceit.

we continue searching for them.

memory clenches its fists. still there's nothing left to hold.

the world stumbles over the carcasses of what we have done.

but there's no need for graves.

when everything is dead.


Filed under: November 2024 Sad Poems