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Writer's pictureNightFlame

The rain smells, and I hate it

The rain smells,

And I hate it


Men hold god in their hearts

Yet they litter the streets like rats

His radiant light now sickly yellow

Their eyes empty, their hope now tart

Wishing to forget their faith

Piercing their stained skin with claws of stray cats

‘God bless you’ is your reward

For ushering them towards their hoped hollow


The rain smells,

And I hate it


The yellow and green flesh of the mother,

Once beautiful

Plastic blues and blackens her skin

The bruisings were the choosings of her children

Forsaken, she weeps

Her abusers continue to carve out her body

Wonder replaced by the rotting heaps


The rain smells,

And I hate it


The lights of our loved ones have vanished

Imprisoned by the black light of our new gods

Our gospel is neon

Our virtue is hunger

Our sin is temperance

The product leads us on

Our souls fade forever longer

Our agency has only to do with slim chance


The rain smells

It stains my hair

It matts my clothes

Nothing close to fair

Its reminder I loathe

Morality has a tear

The soggy pages in my book I must close

And I hate it


-Nate


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NightFlame
NightFlame
05 de ago.

I like this poem dawg

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