confliction

empty deserted visions

came upon some ordinary sin.

i never set out to sell my soul,

but i guess i did.

between the sheets

or somewhere between the lines of mediocrity;

the words always had double meaning.

but you see,

12th street was swimming in its own flood.

and the backed up traffic

splashed a homerush gold rush.

i used to wake up

for your attention;

but now i fall asleep

in an extinction;

damn it!

strange slumber

awakes in empty deserted visions;

coming up on some ordinary sin.

i never set out to sell my soul,

but now these bridges just burn themselves.

c.  2016  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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