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Every day is media day

In our multimedia heads.

To get our news and other’s views

Just spend our days in bed.


Kill the American spirit.

Turn us into drones.

Take away initiative.

Give us all free phones.


Waste our days on Facebook.

Live a Yahoo life.

Hug our sanctuary.

Hide from handling strife.


Lose ourselves in selfies

Each other to deceive.

Create phony daily lives

Too dramatic to believe.


Don’t face each others faces.

Text, Twitter, Instagram.

Type truth and lies, they’ll never know

Who I really am.

Behold the gates, a grave awaits,

The pale horse canters slowly.

I feel your frown, you won’t look down

Upon this vessel lowly.


I look like you, you look like me.

You pass me by but you don’t see

The sorrowful valley that is my soul.

Could love have served to make me whole?


My heart, my mind from life withdrawn,

My bones are brittle, teeth are gone.

A race with death I’m bound to lose,

A victim of my own abuse.


I bleed but I don’t cry.

I hurt. I don’t know why.

My limbs, they ache, they fail me.

The grim reaper waits to nail me.


My sins are many, life for naught,

Wasted gifts, a plan unthought.

My soul sold cheap, the cost too high,

I think that I deserve to die.


My time is near, I reek with fear,

My skin, my cells, they disappear.

My hollow heart cries out too late,

In death my anguish will abate.


If I had loved and been loved too,

Would I have lived this life perdu?

Could I have walked in your fine shoes,

A proper life my right to choose?


I go in grief, in thoughtless waste

To face my sovereign Lord unchaste.

I say farewell, I’m glad to part,

To spare my final broken heart.

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Copyright © 2019.  J. Penn Elliott. All rights reserved.
All photos and literary works are original unless stated otherwise .

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