Poetry With Hart

Finding your place in Hell Earth’s rat race
    is like lighting a wet match,
the catch is you must dry out all passion
    discard it then as fashion
then begin to take in the fact
    you’ve made a pact with the Devil.

He got the seams to your dreams
    and left you with an ameba soul.
the whole of the realization
    hits full force in face,
you’re dancing in stagnation
    when you forget to re-light your life.

We are merely half-made
thoughts of tomorrow.

Originally published in Sans Merci, Volume 34 in 2010