No Time (Dark Poetry)

[Class-Punk]

As a note, even though I write lyrics more often which is pretty much the same as writing poetry, on the rare chance I've specifically wrote poetry I've been trying to get closer to the style of Charles Baudelaire.

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No Time

We take our wine-drowned stupor

and hide away our new world shadows

in the dirt of the homeless bottle

to keep them from the fade to bitter acid,

where love letter and blood's throttle

turn to promises and tasteless daydreams;

poorly made, and never lasted.

The wisest of us taste wine and vinegar,

the smell that something is off,

feel its pull on our broken hearts

that pains, then wanes, then stirs..

and speaks as smoker's cough,

and joins the blurring of the world

from the lunatic's glass trough.

We're ghosts of religious interrogation

and celebrate our gross detachment

in the sated staleness of our nation,

in isolation, trauma, and attachment,

by stumbling into our furnished cells

with red eyes and vomit-stained tongues,

and leaning against blank walls, no area

for a calendar to be hung.

Edited March 29, 2013 by Class-Punk