Feeling better today. Did actual work around the house. Still haven't ventured far. Another one from the vault.
Confessions by a Youthful Killer
Your laughter hurts.
I cry but
no one offers comfort.
Outcast in a mass of faces
looking past
tomorrow.
Coats the cover truths
remain imprinted after
words and films
depicting death fade
into joyous springtime
flowers, growing into
weeds unnoticed.
Out of sight to suns
and moons, but not
to bits and bytes,
instructions told all
listening to demonic
rise to fall;
past caring for our life,
past hoping for redemption,
in place of tears, we
laugh and
shoot and
blow up what
we cannot have.
Acceptance.
[(c) 1999]
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