The fear is absolute: <br />faces pale as the milk of death, <br />the inverse of the milk of human kindness. <br />A haunting sorrow binds the wounds, <br />enslaving us in its hollowest embrace. <br />This poem is a metaphor, <br />but I don’t know why. <br />I don’t know anything. <br />These days right is wrong and wrong is right. <br />Is this someone’s idea of a joke? <br />Well, buddy, I’m not laughing. <br />I’m retching in protest, <br />a one-girl revolution. <br />Can anybody save us now? <br />(I doubt it.) <br />We’re all chained by propriety <br />and blinded by society, <br />trading kisses for pennies <br />and chopping off our toes <br />(the latest fashion) . <br />This aftermath of civilization <br />pulverizes decency and honesty- <br />penalty box for you, dude, <br />sit out this round! <br />Hey now, don’t be like that. <br />Here, take some false eyelashes and a needle for your pain. <br />You feel dirty but mud isn’t dirt- <br />inside you’re squeaky clean.<br /><br />Paige Nielsen<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/modernist-perspective/
