Friday, September 17, 2004

Street Poetry

Street Poetry. What a waste of time. It's just an excuse for ANYONE who cannot write anything to do so. By saying it is 'street poetry' it is then somehow considered legitimate and worthwhile. For example, is this the worst piece of predictable, bland and useless piece of 'literature'. Ever.

The tormenting flames
Rage within my soul
Rapid waves
The screams of the children
Tortured beyond repair
Walls surrounding them
No-where to go
Trapped. Breathless
The pain grows bigger
Holding in every part of their being
It gets colder
They are lost
The snow freezes them
Movement is impossible
No help will come now
They are trapped like a big weight
Crushing their body
Death is the only option

The struggle to wake them from
This death will be their survival
And a start to their new life
Full of happiness, not dread
Free from that death within
That they’ve carried around for so long
Just like a ball and chain
Life is there if they want it
But they must strive to succeed.

Dont sue me.

When I get fit and grow bionic arms
The whole world’s gonna wish it weren’t born