Wistful Ideas

Sweat rolling.

Leaving the life, uncontrolling.

Aspiring to be higher.

Instead down.

Seething to conspire.


Light leaving the night.

Waving goodbye to all its friends.

Sucking the soul through the pipe.

Coming to an end.

For one more high, again on the road.

To self-salvation and destruction.

The kiss of death brushing her lips.

On the soft cheek of my embrace.


I cry as the sweat rolls.

Leaving me in this life uncontrolled.

Boogie woogie fever.

Of the truth, a sardonic believer.

Things come to an end.

My life, my friends.

About Jason L. Troy

Film Enthusiast; Avid reader; Occasional writer; Pianist/Drummer; Runner
This entry was posted in Creative Writing, Poetry and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

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