HarthPoetry

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Hidden

Crying tears

Easily dispensed

Love is dispersed

Uneasy, unset

 

Hollowed hearts

Cold dark eyes stare

Suited men purchase your emptiness

Taste is your treasured enemy

 

Inflamed disease

Lips infected

Collections ruptured by way of rejection

Punctured by the hatred of blue chip patrons

 

Maiden years denied

Two ceremonial decades total

At the end of the day,

I’m hidden in the dirt.

 

© 2008 David Greg Harth

08.03.19.02:15:06@296NYC