blackened

two bullets and a glass of  red wine;

damp bricked boulevards

fill with pools of seeping blood.

the lamplight’s warm white glow dims

as the world’s blue sky turns to a midnight darkness,

and in these, are the few in cloaked blackened clothing,

worn by their blackened souls;

ideas act like shadows, intentions are illusional;

until we catch the sun and burn our hands,

and in these, are the many;

spoon fed the ignorance,

took a shot of courage,

and became drunk with power.

smooth marbled whitened eyes now lie in blackened decay.

ideas act like shadows, intentions are illusional;

until we catch the sun and burn our hands.

 

c. 2015  bgw

 

About bradford graham west

enjoy poetry about life, emotion and everything in between. it's real and true. - please read and enjoy! - bgw
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