Kid of Los Angeles Poems

He avoids me.
He avoids me completely, doesn't look at me.
I feel so...blue.
An ocean full of emotional tears and wonder.
...

Spiraling in a lapse of judgement,
high on false belief.
Breathing short rapid breaths, trying to take it all in.
Slowly weaning in the dark apocalypse,
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Every Day. A Struggle.
A struggle not to add to my glutonous outside composition.

In the harrowing courtroom: my mirror.
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Beauty. A confusing riddle.
An obscure portrait with no paintings.
A pink elephant used for it's vanity.
A vanity mirror used for reflection.
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A dilligent spine that once stood so tall,
humbled with age and withered to a fall.
Lost on the path, a misguided road.
Stranded with a compass, but nowhere to go.
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Lying in a deep blue bed of sea.
Sluggishly drifiting down into the painfully calming depths of oblivion.
Sinking lower.
icy penetration engulfing the putrid breath of life once held.
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The colors flash vibrantly. Once in a while.
My rusty arms rotate. Slowly.
I constantly need some rust repair to work.
I can work.
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I see it. I see everything.
Every muscle in his body
Every pulse through his veins.
Every breath that he takes.
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Rain Rain.
Can't go away.
My rainy cloud always has to stay.
With my drops I can play.
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Reminisce, reminisce on history,
Reminisce, reminisce on a victory
Do we celebrate victory?
Among death, hostages, tragedy?
...