Prerogative Poem by Sherri Anderson

The pain was to real for you to see,
The monster craving innocence,
That was hiding inside of me.

Temptations were castrated at the door,
Excuses brought to my attention,
Selfishness was no more,
And I was living in my own created dimension…

Of all the things I believed,
Lies were your escape from reality,
Exaggeration is my only prerogative,
And death... my only solution...

To submit my own self-conscious,
To the corrupted scribbles of hell we call home,
To be scattered surreptitiously in circles,
Able to call your temple my own.

Trying to do something,
But lacking the intelligence to do so,
Life is a monstrosity,
And to the satin pits of hell we are all forced to go.

Memories subsided,
Death crept silently behind my ear,
Horrific tales of journeys,
That no one has seen in years.

Breaking away all boundaries,
Escaping freedom is the key,
Hiding within your own selfish heart,
Knowing we are free, but freedom not being the need.

Cast all your fears upon me,
And I will wish them all away,
Promising you nothing,
Showing you success is not the way.

Just let me remind you the basics,
Of the rules we call our law,
Absences is a common need now,
Letting you know, everyone will fall…