My Life

My life
Is a moving picture
Half written
By a
Drunken
Monkey
Who sits at the typewriter
And
Occasionally writes
Shakespeare.
 
Caught
Behind walls
Of
Red Light
Which glow still
Embers
Of that once 
Bright burning
Passion
 
Looking up
At vapor trails
Of people
Still chasing that
'Merican
Dream
On gilded wings
Of glory
Fortune and fame
 
I exit my life
Closing
Down
My phone
And walk away
Far away
As a
shadow casted 
Long ways
Against a backdrop of a
Molten pot of gold
 
What a crazy
Three minutes
This
Thought
Has been. 
This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741