Inside the Mind of an Aloof Poet - Revised Melodramatic Cacophony: Dedicated to JWL

Requesting to hold a flimsy candle to your name407Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKtq9muKzRB

Could be compared to weak light trying in vain to reach its spindly fingers between the cracks and curtains of numbed walls.

It cannot be done.

High rising platform overlooks seasonal apathy,

A raging sea of lies, ties, odiferous flies and futile surmise.

For whose penmanship so rocked the world,

Scratched upon paper with a formal lack of elegance,

Those who believed in him saw that day rise with such misfortune,

That they would rather not remember it.

What am I writing?

Why do I love you so?

Why must the universe plague me with such love that I drastically begged for?

I don't know, ask my heart.

You drown my head with each rotting second I have,

You reside within my mind like a parasite.

Unlike real parasites,

I find in you the bought of comfort,

Whose words, thoughts, mind, lips, and love pour into my ears with intricate detail.

Pesticides and reptilian eyes,

What do you have to say to that?

To hell with governments?

Abolish all that may appear insignificant?

Deem what is necessary to be inflicted upon the human race?

Your opinions were sure something to marvel at,

Even some odd forty years later.

I do not exist,

Do not acknowledge me.

Like I wrote to Kurt,

For the love of macaroni and cheese,

Please do not sense my existence and presence upon this earth.

I am nothing and I mean nothing.

I love you,

Like the millions of other people who do.

You, sir, are a dream.

You tug my heart by its seams,

Wipe away tears that stream from mine eyes.

Bask in your own melodramatic, unsystematic symphony.

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