'8' Poem by Forrest Barden

'8'



'8'

'I would like to tell a story,
but they all end up a morbid allegory;
poor me, enigmatic as the breeze...
directionless intentions bent
on recklessness through sentiment,
sometimes so pent up you can no longer breathe.
I leave to go where I dont know
anything more or less than here,
in a time that expired as it transpired;
existence, in and of itself, sincere....
yet, adherent to appearance,
we subvert our own endearment
of the miracles of life until we're jaded.
so, xeric as sand on the beach,
we teach monotheism through duality;
there can be no solidarity when segregated.
our flat sphere appears alone
in an unending abysmal expansion
which lacks infanticide, genocide....
suffice it to say: Evil was Contained on One planet.'

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