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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1826467-Ahead-of-Me
by Bibcap
Rated: ASR · Poetry · Philosophy · #1826467
A poem about bleak reality.

What kind of world is this
Where drugs and paperslips
Get ahead of me
Greenbacks and dime-bags
8 ball sockets in corner pockets
So way ahead of me
Smoke-stained grins
And rejections
Precede me
Underqualified
Behind the times
It ain't easy
Hate so deaf and blind
Corruption is behind
And ahead of me
Huddled in a dead-end corner
This tattered conscience weeps
At every passing SUV
College grads and their priorities
So way ahead of me
I know you and
Your cultivitated disease
Bound moralities unwind
Awash in toxic seas
Take me down to drown
In your double-talking
Sophistries
Fields of nothing real
I don't think I want
To get ahead of myself
Or my years
Alarms ring in my ears
My demons try
They try to drag me down
Turn me on
Get me off of this ride
I'll hide so you can stay
Ahead of me
I've no tears left
In my desert-dry
Bloodshot eyes
Just let me be
I don't wanna get ahead
I don't wanna get ahead
Of dead society.
© Copyright 2011 Bibcap (bibcap at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1826467-Ahead-of-Me