Poetry / You Can’t Hear Me

You Can’t Hear Me

Life
is broke.
Tried ta fix it.
I knocked…
God answered;
never been here before…
loved?   wanted   needed?
found   caressed   sighed   and died
all but too many times.
Lied to myself in promise
and then made a fool of.
Gave generously of myself,
strength… love…
philosophy, poetry,
on and on
only to find this glorious ass
failure called life
has dumped shit  all over me
again.
Over-kill;
when happily-twisted hearts couldn’t cry…
or try
a lil ounce of help it…
to take some   or make it…
jus had ta break it;
and let that deadly ass storm rumble through
from babies bowel
to cap and gowns
defeatin funerals goin down,
wit mo babies on the way.
Give and take
the goals that break
never yours to replace
with joy once there, who’ll ever care
to know what was at stake.
Warhol and Bisquiat…
I miss them;
hate the world tried to twist them
from loving tears to anger fears
they found joy
in lethal injection blues
a constipated gloom,
where the governments payin
for it’s own kids to use…
as they laugh and play
too many daze away…
no future insurance… jus ha ha  amuse
while mothers are beaten and used…
please…   stay away;
drug life      delay
so whole hearts come home to stay
and love forever child.
Blueprint fo life is failin…
the daze grow dark an ailin…
no one will hear me tho;
not now or ever more…
this twisted sick ass mystery…
has lost life’s key;
too late;
satan slammed the door.