Something Wicked [poem]

Something wicked this way comes,
gas masks on, they carry their guns.
For freedom, they march
for the nation, they bark.

Yet who am I to question the game?
They pay all my bills, give me a name,
watch me as I'm walking home,
make me think my property's my own.

And yet I feel this sudden urge
to free myself, to fight and purge,
not just for myself but loved ones too,
and try to squeeze my foot into shoe.

But a freedom fighter, sadly, I'm not.
I'm rather complacent stuck in this plot
of secrecy, lies, corruption and greed
until finally one day our visions are freed.

This piece came out of nowhere. I've been watching a lot of dystopian future type stuff lately though and am really beginning to notice similarities to our current political climate.

Regardless, I really felt a desire to write some poetry and this is basically what I had in mind. Nothing spectacular for certain but hopefully you enjoyed it.

Thanks for reading!

The Price of Christmas [poem]

Sunken, sullen eyes
Snotty, sniffeling noses
Sour, snakeskin lips

Surrounded by a sea of depressives
in the most wonderful time of the year
Homicide
Suicide
Drinking...cider with friends and family

Feigning interest
Waning relationships
Taking gifts and leaving

Bodies built up in a ball of bile and blood
and in the middle a crying boy
but only because he wanted that toy.

Not really sure where I was going with this. Walking around department stores lately though I've noticed this beaten and broken look in peoples faces. That was the general inspiration for the poem at least. The realization that, despite my complete adoration, this season takes a bigger toll on most than they may realize.

My first official post on RealityGrounded, I feel accomplished right now. Thanks for reading.