History

The history of this pain runs long
and deep in its track back to the source.
The well-spring
of this failure man
gushes forth from a dark,
damp cave some trillions of years old,
star-spawned and exploded,
and cursed,
surely,
by the matter which was near at the time of incubation.

For I am star-stuffed
and galactic in composition,
yet still not enough
to form a being which deserves life
and running time in this limited dimension.
Small,
remote and under used,
under learned,
and unappreciative of this "gift"
of death
which will come within the next instant
to be sure and over.
Back to the void,
to be pulled to pieces by the happy worms,
and join that ever-expanding league of the grateful dead,
and mold and dusty,
alone...
dark.

© Harley

Harley welcomes your comments! Harley welcomes your comments

Previous PoemReturn to Harley's CornerNext Poem



Return to Corner Poetry Home PageSend your comments to the Webmaster of Corner Poetry

Thanks for stopping by!

Corner Poetry Copyright Statement/Information
© 2000- 2008 Corner Poetry
© 1996 - 2000 The Poetry Corner
Webmaster: Michael A. Loóse @ webmaster@cornerpoetry.com
This page was last modified on 27-Jan-2007  9:31 Pacific Time
This web site is designed and and maintained by Michael Loóse