Search

clcouch123

I talk you talk we'll talk

Tag

victim

Spray-Painted World

Spray-Painted World

 

Victims get so tired,

And they cannot sleep

 

They have night enough to say

To themselves, who wants it

Where is the day that offers

Vitamins and company with

Expressions on faces we can see?

Beaten from outside

Or deep within

One might be a consequence of

The other

How to find the lowest rung

When certain clouds and darkness

Have an agenda to obliterate

All hope in rising,

I don’t know

As in I can’t guarantee

I can say try, try it to myself as well

Dodge the stroke of perpetration

Push away the smoke,

Ignore the mirrors

Rise above ignominy and presupposed

Punishment from sin that

Circulates, unclaimed, looking for a

Target

(while we’re made of adhesive

you know the childish insult)

Turn a better word to action

Reach for the saving step

To start

It’s there

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Andre Hunter on Unsplash

Just Mad

 

Victimhood

Victimhood

(a reverie, a study)

 

Evil is too easy

Is it really?

Maybe on the inside

A quick turn, then stay

In that direction

Me, first

You don’t exist

Everything is fodder

For possession

And control

The very stuff of the universe

Should be mine

 

And then it’s gone

I have nothing

There’s a lesson in legacy

The tyrant is forgotten

Except for notes that tell the truth

And finally

The evil ones are burned

Like autumn leaves in the backyard

(how it used to be)

Effigy and memory

 

And was this easy?

Yes, and lazy, too

Everything subverted to

A contract with the luck of the devil

A genie who grants wishes and

Scratch-like

Always laughs the last

Because the house of hell always wins

Once entered by

The gullible who think

That profit is a plot

Hard work is another matter for

Good people

The suckers, so I always thought

The despot

And now I am ash

Blown off the foot in the tread

Of someone righteous

Whose agencies are angels

A surrogacy of judgment

 

My victims

Lazarus

Living in a better house, the house of God forever

While I diminish

To a speck

And then am nothing

No matter left

Nothing

 

C L Couch

 

 

Christopher Michel

Ramesseum in Egypt

 

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑