Besmirching Your White Dress Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

All the kids destroy the vases,
Throwing them against the walls
In turmoil, derision has a name.

And then, the infidels sleep with
Opposite sexes, the wives sleep,
Entangled with dangerous liaisons

The husbands make love with mistresses,
And the kids go on and inherit the disease
That we are bound by one conclusion

Then the teen-agers become rebels,
Destroying everything, trying to make some sense
In the process, they just lose their essence.

The boys paint the town red,
And the girls jump from multiples of beds
Boys, within rusting metal, girls with protruding bellies.

Then a man learns to love,
To lose his sanity, in the midnight there is a flame
Fanned by the whistling of the cold wind

Then a woman learns the secret
To appease a man’s inner beast
Then she scornfully tastes the mouth of betrayal

One morning, we were celebrating the mundane,
Tomorrow we shall be dead in our sleep,
For the alcohol has sedated our souls

And beside the alley, there’s a mob
Inhaled too much smoke, losing their footing
And in a moment, they will be dead bodies

Then I few the arms of the clock,
It sped up, in the moment where we vilify
Our souls, and stultify our honor

And then the graves become occupied
Hotel rooms have so many vacancies
Children would be screaming in between cities

Then heaven would be desolate,
A lot of people would then sleep in flames
We have lost in the purging games.