Nicotine Stained Fingers
Nicotine stained fingers, draws pictures on the walls.
With eyes closed ethereal dancers,
dance naked through the halls.
While his mind grasps the realities,
relating to his fall,
from grace, his place,
high above....the tallest of them all.
The man on the pedestal, looks down on all below.
Feels the thoughts of discontent,
Ripping to and fro...
Laughingly he cries out,
to the birds there in the sky...
burrowing through the dark black clouds,
near his pedestal so high.
Trust me, Trust me, said the birds to the flies.
Then they gorged themselves insanely,
and they began to cry...
Farewell to thee, you'll only be,
another mote in his eye...
to the man on the pedistal,
sitting high in the sky.
Want to comment on this Poetry?
Sign up to Edit Red and you will be able to comment on Poetry and get access to: Upload your own stories and poems, get readers and their feedback, promote your work...
|
 |
|