The tale of your neighborhood Idol

“Sand precipitate,
Grey
Like the reflection of
A Cumulused pregnant sky,
I sit like a lump
At your feet,
Existing empty, but still,
not just Being.
Shored up
In multitudes,
I, too, am one of a kind, really.
That unnoticed…and then again.
When you do
Pick me up, perchance,
It is, maybe,
My potent serene energy
That turns you on,
To put chisel down my front.
It is, maybe,
Your observation
That i do not bleed, then,
That elevates me
And makes me
Yet another
Sad, lonely God
In a golden, morbid shrine.”

Advertisements

3 thoughts on “The tale of your neighborhood Idol

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s