Just think about the BRIGHT SIDE of my poems .... YOU don't have to EXPERIENCE the emotional states that cause these puppies to spew out like this ... you can just rubberneck their morbid carnage as you surf on by on the information highway!
EACH TURN MORE DAMAGED
dreams form from loss
from histories bled
out of our past
and into the void
these things are stolen
and can't be regained
ripped from our being
and somehow destroyed
too many states gel
around those absences
too much sorrow
drills into the soul
too great an anguish
burrows beneath day
we have no defenses
no sure means to cope
we watch the echoes
of our own pain
erupt in present frames
and worry if the scars
will heal better now
or if our torment
passes down the line
to touch the innocent
horrid visions dance
within enfolding night
terrors of the theft
of cherished bits of youth
erased from the mind
torn from our grasp
never to give comfort
or be with us again
we spiral into this
lower and lower
sadder and sadder
darker and darker
each turn more damaged
each level more desperate
every day less likely
to every break the spin
- Brendan Tripp
07/31/2002
Copyright © 2002 by Brendan Tripp