This is as much your story as it is mines,
We drink from the same cup, you and I..
Sometimes intoxicated by the offering and other times
Rendered to a state of nausea by the over stimulation of sugar rushes and aftertastes of the gone off variety.
When left too long in the sun, unattended, life’s condition deteriorates.
And we drink on, regardless, like thirsty puppies, unaware of the crass energy of a thing gone bad.
And then we feel it all. The rising bile, the fear, the pain, the disillusionment that makes us point shaky fingers at who-knows-what.
And we cry from deep within. Warm tears stream down forlorn faces, drenching chins; the salty derisiveness staining the false arrogance of starched collars. Of what use is this self-ridicule? Carving a path to bleakness, it sets a burning torch to light the way, but burns its bearer into the ground / to ashes.
The dust to dust parody reminds us of our fallibility, mortality, but taken to extreme derides us to nothingness. Life tends to nothingness? Unless…
Local Council By-Elections April 2017
1 hour ago