I can't
seem to escape
the sun.
I put a blanket
over the windows
in my bedroom.
now, this is over
curtains, &
the bastard still
shines through.
they say the sun is dying,
slowly burning out
that it's just a big
ball of gas - fading,
well, if this is true
it's putting up one hell of a fight.
a starving dog,
a pedophile
with a throbbing hard-on
standing outside the fence
by a kiddie pool,
a jack ass, no talent
"poet" who cannot
go one single day
without writing,
doesn't have the perseverance
that that orange yellow
son of a bitch
has in one
tiny
slowly dying
flame.
Author notes
Written August 5th, 2006
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Comments
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I don't know if you meant it this was chuckling after I read this
Good
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Interesting write. I liked the lines:
"they say the sun is dying,
slowly burning out
that it's just a big
ball of gas - fading,
well, if this is true
it's putting up one hell of a fight."
These lines makes me think about what might become of the universe. Like, I've always heard the theory that the sun will blow up and all the planets will come to an end, but if the sun actually burns out like you put in your poem, then it makes me wonder if the world will just turn very dark and we just might have a hard time growing vegetation without much sunlight. I also wonder if technology will take care of that worry by the time that something like that happens. This poem really makes me think. Good write.
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