the human body is an engineering disaster.
Odd sounds, cracks, and aches.
It's maddening. I'm drenched in disgust
With the feeling of blood in my veins,
Like oil in a car beginning to rust.
I am still young, that is true; But it is fleeting, and so I'm cynical. I shall deteriorate with the time I accrue -- The principle is abysmal.
I do not fear the news. Rather, I detest the subject. Analogously, I do not mind the faded hues Of a painting I don't respect.
The work itself is shoddy And filled with inherent faults. Most times, I feel my own body Is better off a pillar of salt.
I am still young, that is true; But it is fleeting, and so I'm cynical. I shall deteriorate with the time I accrue -- The principle is abysmal.
I do not fear the news. Rather, I detest the subject. Analogously, I do not mind the faded hues Of a painting I don't respect.
The work itself is shoddy And filled with inherent faults. Most times, I feel my own body Is better off a pillar of salt.
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puffin
I'm a very busy physics major who writes "poetry" sometimes. I'm really into dadaism and the artistic revolution of the 1960s, and, cringey though it may sound, I think there should be a revival of that movement, which may be why I stick around here sometimes. It may be worth mentioning that I'm an atheist; I appreciate your religious sentiment, but all you'll get back from me is humanly good will.
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