Creative fun in
the palm of your hand.
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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Opinion · #2120878
5/17 You can have it all and still have nothing.
You talk so much
my ear burned off in my sleep;
it couldn't keep up with the ringing
and I wasn't around
to think any fires out.
Can you be so rich
to stay far ahead enough
that your image is an ant
I can squint to kill?
I wanna poor my sugar on you,
deaf leopard. I can breathe
your spots like
cancer on my lungs
and I can heel your death
with a swipe of my benefits.
Nobody's hurt;
nobody gets moved...
I see your motto on your ironic t-shirt,
stolen 'cuz you could.
Why are the rich folks
so broke? Why
are the least plain
the most sane? Why
are the most put-together
the first to fall apart? Why?
You can't buy the answers
but you're funding
the lack of research
and your claims are overdue.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2120878