Decay
I mold my life as if it were clay
In bed I lay
And say nothing, beause I sleep
Bo-Peep was stampeeded by her sheep
Mother Goose is evil
Corruption of the youth
She should be burned at the stake
Joan of Arc was a fake
She was a made up story
Full Metal Jacket was a movie that was gory
Physically and Mentally
Drill Instructor Hartman messed with your mind
And P.T.ed you all until Private Pyle died
God is not the ruler of the sky
Nor is he ruler of anything else in this world
And I will go to the place of great fire
For the things I write
I go to the basement every Friday night and fight
The rules say I can't talk about it
And there is no real reason
This world is a world of dark, deary, dismal,decay
People stray away from the things they fear
There is a bartender who pisses in people's beer
Queer used to be a normal word
But it is no longer
Now it's considered hateful
You need specific requirements for a filter change
Water is special but yet we waste it
And it does not mean a thing to me
I'm hated in this time of desolution and sin
It's bad to be Catholic in this day and age
Because I came hated for no reason
I'm a walking talking, poetry writing contradiction
And things of this nature
I'm alone in a dimly lit room
The single eight watt light bulb casting back and forth
Across my face
I'm in a place
A place of discontent
Don't know how I got here
I just appeared in a sublimnal flash
Drink and drive and you will crash
But that's not a positive message to not drink
Or drive
Things of this nature don't concern me
I have no reason to care
I have scruffy hair
And it will never be cut
My wrists that is, because suicide is not the answer
To the society scum suckers
Make me bleed
The end of my life
The end of the world
The end of mankind
The end of this poem
The bombs are falling
This world a nuclear waste
We all ended up killing each other
In the end
You are born again
And society will still know of:
Greed
War
Violence
Hate
Rascism
Fascism
Depression
Suicide
And things of this nature
There is no good
The world is a deary, dismal, dark, decay
The evil made it that way
Children can't go out into their yard to play
This world is a big land mine
That the detectors can't pick up
This poem was about the bad stuff
I've said all that I can say
This world is a deary, dismal, dark, decay.
© Justin Michale Chambers
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