We are forsaken though we won't admit
Is there a more pitiful lot?
We were ashamed or so we should be
We were the plague to the place we called home
Melting the ice, burning the wood
Killing with lead, and messing our heads
Then pointed the blame at each other
How could there be a more pitiful lot?
Novels of romance, comics of the powerful
In a way we were like gods, deciding fates.giving power to the weak , love to the needy.
Falling for performers, entertainers, characters who
Would never know our names. Then getting disappointed by the people they turned out to be .
Aren't we a pitiful lot?
Lost in a sea of scandals, sex, crimes, and cruelty
all dreaming of something we'd destroyed long ago. We aren't any good for ourselves let alone each other. I wish we were a book , with a happy ending
A movie where everything had worked out in the end
That couldn't be
We were forsaken , we won't admit it , that could be the problem or the beginning .
YOU ARE READING
The Room with Many Doors
PoetryA collection of poems I've written ( the mad rantings of a teenage wannabe poet)
