Deflated Flower

by

Chris Lahren

upon the haunted hour of waking,
still-faded sky becomes the hour of morn.
and you watch the sun's struggle to be born,
while the worm is there for taking.

your new soul is prepared to step out,
to be the man you've always dreamed.
and you craft your dialogue to be king,
while your white horse is there to mount.

breathing deeply as a new-born believer,
to scratch the surface of gold-plated sky.
full self-esteem ahead you reply,
while you plot a life as the overachiever.

stepping languidly steeped in trash,
outside your door is gray obsessed confession.
ego's balloon filled with hot air obsessions,
while you step outside you crash.

into your muddled back yard you bleed,
trampled by confusion and blame that flies.
your brave courageous soul blocked out by cries,
that your life's not of a flower but that as a weed.

Want a new computer?

NEXT?
Why don't you look at Young Love
by: Don Moorhead
from: Bozeman, MT, US

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