A Lament

By Revolting Theatre

I'm 30 now.

Still staring at the monotone landscape.  
The same birds chizzle the silence,
Sculpting the miserable minutes into hours of waste.
The trees are taller, but just as boring.  Lame from the weight of their own branches.
If they could walk it would be with a limp.

Those who would walk beside me have found their own roads.
Children or Careers.
I can't find fault in them (though I will after a drink.)

Still, I am the poet.
Not halfway through my verse and running off the audience.
An entire way of being,
Eroding under the constant waves of ....  well, of nothingness.
And every waking moment is covered with this smog-brown film.
And every day ends with an empty cup that was meant for all the meaning.

It's not that I want to die.
I just wish I could've died young.

Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited. Ask the author first.
Copyright 2014 Revolting Theatre
Published on Tuesday, July 22, 2014.     Filed under: "Poetry"
Log In or Join (free) to see the special features here.

Comments on "A Lament"

Log in to post comments.
  • Pride Ed On Tuesday, October 14, 2014, Pride Ed (108)By person wrote:

    Haunting and real. Simply a beauty!

  • Liz On Monday, August 18, 2014, Liz (267)By person wrote:

    Welcome back

  • Magdalena On Wednesday, July 23, 2014, Magdalena (616)By person wrote:

    The visuals in your words are wonderful. The last line tragic. If someone stood in front of me and said that, I would kick them in the shin :) Nonetheless great work Sir.

Contribution Level

Revolting Theatre's Favorite Poets
Share/Save This Post



Join DarkPoetry Join to get a profile like this for yourself. It's quick and free.

How to Criticize Without Causing Offense
© 1998-2024 DarkPoetry LLC
Donate
[Join (free)]    [More Poetry]    [Get Help]    [Our Poets]    [Read Poems]    [Terms & Privacy]