Come Clean Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

People will talk
Ruin things
Persecute
Always
Always

It’s sickening
A mad riot
Of blaming
When their
Hands aren’t
Plush
Clean
Purged

Choke on
Death
Rather than
Lust for life
Build an empire,
Breath
Through
The shards
Of glass

But no matter
How much
Trouble you
Go from one
Perdition
To another
People
Will just continue
To demolish
Things for other people.

What hatred
What despicable
Idiosyncrasy is this?
We’re all
Blighted
And blinded.

People always
Talk
What a riot,
A circus
A bandwagon
Of hypocrites.

Blaming people
For doing
Things as if
They’re new
At this game
Of sullying

You’re a bedlam.
You inspire
Such hatred
That the room
That I sit in
Is just as clogged
As your marred vein.

Sorry for the outburst.
My dog, the one
Clothed with ebony fur
Pries and bawls over -
He must have been
Disturbed
With this vitriol
That I let pierce
Through my veil.

Come clean,
Before anything else.