Just a Day in Woodland Hills
String them alongThose wooden boys
With dreams of becoming real
Already inscribed in fates pages
The path is clear
Mapped out with fear
For destination death
A red X marks your treasure
Heaven is waiting
Sleeping in the stomach of a whale
Finding your fire?
Your desire for art
As the paint wears off
Scratched and chipped
Half grim and broken
Choking on the bones
Your hollow frame is getting restless
Of the every day mess you make
Of all that is beautiful around
She guides your hand
Matches with the devil
Up the mountain of life
At the top you see the smoke
Passing by the signs
They read: Do Not Pass
Highly Flammable
Hypnotized by the eye in the sky
You never notice
Mindless autopilot on
You’ve reached the climax
Death, into the fire you walk
The end, nothing exciting
Just a day in Woodland Hills.
Please login or register
You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
Login or Registerleave comments/feedback and rate this poem.