A Revelation of Sorts
Going to extremes
hope smashed on the rocks
as an indifferent world leans over,
sadly shaking inconsolable heads
(I) never jumped
was pushed
broken branches, gnarled roots
waving cruelly goodbye
To the sea,
loneliness tramples this body
the cold grasp of the undertow
there are no small mercies
From a small blue collar town
always being put down
a closeted alcoholic home
depression was all that was known
Sometimes there is no light
at the end of a collapsing tunnel
waiting for some revelation
to take away this pain
mathiasthom
written 5/5/11
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