Dead Day

Halloween by JusTee

There are moments
When you break-
Like a vase
A shelf forsakes…
Still the shatter
Despite being strong-
All in resistance
Of what is going wrong…
And you beg
For hurt to be seen-
And hope
Of what someday will bring…
And there is a plan
So much bigger than yours-
And that knowledge
Doesn’t change what’s ignored…
Because you are human
Despite any goal-
And in some cases
Life is just a toll…
So the ground shakes
And the winds carry-
All the hopes
Or any goal of being merry..
Instead the dead
Rise from before-
Within the depths
Or covered floors…
And the demons
Have their day-
For NO Halloween
Escapes their prey.

Image created by JusTee

It’s just never the right time
Or day
But weak
And so the stones lay
One
By one
You’ll hide
I seek.

Enemy

Enemy- Original image by JusTee

Darwin said
Only the strong will survive-
But if I am not strong,
Nor Weak-
What am I?
But the middleman…
Still crushing the weak-
Only to be extinguished?
Survivals problem-
Is the Who-
Who could be helped,
Or stop the inevitable.
Yes Prosperity-
On the backs of the weak,
To build a new strength,
Pushing an unknown,
In the ignorance of history-
Erasing what you could have known…
So the enemy survives.

I found a shoelace
Missing a purpose-
And a mouse
Who didn’t respond to cheese-
Thus explaining a clock
Whose minutes have no need.

Vice


Soft scratches alert 

To hear you 

That you are there 

Until you aren’t 

And I wait 

As any caged prey would do

For a return

Or consequence 

Of proportions beyond me

Or anything 

Even the moth runs from the flame

While perched on the door 

Waiting for eternity 

Or just the day.

Illusion’s Candor

Illusion

Sounds of sandpaper rubbing-
Walking through drying fields
Drops escaping the puddle
As toes remember their feel.
Noises promise company-
Loneliness weighs on shoulders . . .
Walking up high for peace-
Leaves the body feeling colder.
Pieces fit into the puzzle-
Broken as eggshells on the floor . . .
Knowing something is different
Failing to prove the more.
Regard all hidden realities-
Ending fantasy’s game . . .
And while truth stands in sight-
The mind hides it just the same.

No Good Deed

Hand

Callused by logic
Confined by youth
Ignorance for fun
Pain to soothe.
No lack of hope
Just wrong and right
Deaf to No
Up for a fight.
Alone with silence
A past staying awake…
Good deeds punished
While watching you break.

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