teenage wasteland

make me unified
i may not be real
i may just be the pieces someone found
a collage of angst
from adolescent scissors
scraps of books
fed to the lions
so that they could know what it is they are eating
and what it is that we felt
when we were relevant
when we knew what everything meant
and everything meant something
when we cared so much that it ached
in places they say were never real to begin with
and they looked at us like we were precious
and dumb
but we were so much smarter then
with our pores clogged by passion
stumbling into ditches on back road ecstasy
of moonlit sonatas and death as candy
off the reservation
with no lack of obligation
we all went down
one by one
even as we gripped each others souls
and swore we’d never let go
with teenage claws
sharpened by grasping at everything we could reach
we eventually succumbed
all of us
to the comfort of planned obsolecence
they have made us into molds
so that the machines would have an easier time with us
so that we would fit
into the places they had made for us
convenient parking
regard for real estate
a place to work, breed and die
real estate is fake
and efficiency is highly overrated

2 Comments

  1. Really good poetry man…the feeling is very strong n like u’ve mentioned on netwrokedblogs, u like to pen it down while its fresh, indeed it is…btw, i have my own blog, where i write my stuff sometimes…do check it out on http://rohitraosblog.blogspot.com/

    keep it going mate!

  2. much gratitude, rohit. i will definitely follow the blog and look forward to reading your work…

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