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Rated: E · Poetry · Melodrama · #2241103
Something my muse decided I needed to write

Don’t tie me up in your social bows,
strangle me with rules instead of pretty prose.
Let me out into the night where I breath
in the succulent darkness with things, I believe.
Let me out with the sleepers and creepers and midnight weepers.
Give me deliverance from the ordinary,
from heavy burdens, I am doomed to carry.
Show me attention if you please,
no pity that reeks of human disease.
Out with the never been, alone, never will fit in, riddled with sin.
We who have been molded with stones,
resisting becoming Everyman clones,
we shift in the shadows of reality,
realizing the pure truth of what must be.
Give me the boozers, the losers, the bad choice choosers-
we who take our pain and never give away the blame,
trying to stay sane in a pretend world of fakers and shakers and takers.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2241103-Tumbling-Turmoil