Okay I'm not sure what to post so here's one of my poem. Yay.
O'Sullivans, around 8 pm
The soothing sound of a glass being filled, The dying light and the fading chatter
The cold and smooth embrace of beer,
Guitar chords being pulled to cast away the evercoming nights
It’s the divine calling of mundane self-mutilation, of leveated dreams and smoke-filled hearts : the magnificent chant of the great nothingness ahead.
We are depleaded, drunk, dumb, yet dancing dancing till it falls apart, till it all crumbles to dust and glitters shiny glitters that will float in the cold amber-colored air, under the red neons of this beloved futility
Same old, same old my dear -
Still a striving wannabe poet, Still a child on the brink of this cruel yet so trivial thing called desilusion.
It never seems to get old, does it ?
Daunting beauties and infinite seconds on which I unwillingly linger, and the delicate absence of your sunset eyes.