I look inside of myself
And I see nothing
I look outside of myself
And I see nothing
And when I look inside and out
I still see
Nothing.
Can you see something?
Man's head mounts the wall
Man's ribs usher spectators
“What is that, father”
“The monster, son.”
The boy's heads were two
The father's eyes were four
Their faces gnarled,
Their bodies far more.
“But they do not -look- scary, Father”
The congregation regarded him
“Ah, but they were sinning,
lusting, feuding, greedy seeds”
The boy's teeth elongated
The father's jutted more
Their eyes pure black
Their souls were far more
“But they do not look evil, Father”
A disembodied head's glazed eyes
Lethargically glared his way
“Only on the outside, my
For the sake of Pete
This lost boy will never land
Till I reach the moon
Calling on all wolves
Let’s be alone together
Fuck the sheep and goons
Forever we’ll be
The opposite of adults
Young concrete rose bloom
To the moon and past
With or without pixie dust
I’ll meet you there soon
Romeo and Rose (from the balcony to the titanic) by 19andMugsy, literature
Literature
Romeo and Rose (from the balcony to the titanic)
On a moonlit night,
In the lateness of June,
Poetry was in my mind,
With tunes of a melody,
Playing in my ear,
Like a family,
With a little Shakespeare,
For my little Shakespeare lady.
Meet me on the balcony,
In secrecy.
Opening your eyes is like
Opening a letter to me.
Reading your mind,
Between the time of me
Being an enemy and a friend.
Touch me while i’m watching,
And feel the static sizzling beneath my skin.
You call me Romeo, the original,
Living in a world of Casanovas.
And you, are a classic Juliet,
From the world of Beethoven.
Now let’s jump ahead of time…
I’m Jack and you’re Rose.
I smell
As I am when I am
I hope to lend a helping hand
But I’m scared they’ll bite it off
And never give it back again
No matter how much we change
Everything just stays the same
As Kobe falls another rises
It’s all just an endless game
No matter how much I try to fit in
I always stand out like a sore thumb in this endless sea of middle fingers.
Should I raise up my head or my finger to belong?
I guess I’ll choose life for now, as I swim to shore while the rest linger.