Rejection

A poets dream
One blade of grass sway
Torn in violent agree of the wind
Exposed from its vile elements within
This world was never intended to be home
Torn emblems with fragments of barbed wire memories

Attached within countless moments

Along with countless dreams
With vile taunt attached within fire
A decorated aura tossed within its plated misery
With death pangs yet through prayer

Onto the rise of birth pangs that gives rise to the dream

Creativity along with a fatal lasting memory
To the potter who lost his clay
Sought after life with the brilliance of a key
Yet a fraction of desolation leading to its sore vex misery
Although the earthly skeptic would very often beg to disagree
To the poet who lost his way deep in the night
Just as thought would so often think
Can't even dismiss an earthly bliss in thought
In time well spent in thought
Rejection in the third degree with want

The pulse of the twilight sun had tainted my inner vision

With words expressed in deep contempt of disbelief;
Perhaps this was the dark path where even Nero treed?
With melodic tones filled with lazy diamonds filled up with orchids in their heads
A way of Chesterton look on the whole concept of the family

The final homily where others lose hope then vaguely disagree
To dream with vicious storms in the night to fright,
Following the wolf pack then to slay the final dragon in agony
Then to travel on Sunset Boulevard
A sight filled with cars without wheels
A tormented soul left outside as roadwork
Watched overhead as buzzards would fly
To greet a quaint passerby
Overhead twice killed by passing motorist would ride smashing skulls

Dreams can take one all the way
To kingdom come yet there is still time to change the road your on
Fashioned by pearls then torn at last
Thrown as rubbish on death's door at last,

Yet still marked on a blotted page fully intact

Rejection can make one soar to heaven's door
Lest I shall simply choose to ignore
Some other variation on a dream or way of choice
Perhaps a given chance to ever roll the dice

With thoughts of anger inside pronged toward desolation in swift suicide

Torn up with fixed barbed wire with thorns
Some may even curse the day they were actually born
Next dashed across a squeaky wheel
Fractured skulls smashed in swift desolation
Others may contemplate it being no big deal
A thought of inner perversion having laughter plated in the cycle of the wind
The hero of sorts will never retire although inside exhausted and torn
A society filled with miserable people
Thinking nothing ever to stop and greet at the nearest couch steeple
Ahead a lone atheist haunted by shadows in the night to fright the soul,
Never to question the vast intent of inner torn desolation of the meaning of existence.

A challenge to be free is a question of time,
Marked on a ripped blotted page as a line.
Along with drawn feathers in the wind
A given chance to perhaps begin again
Merciful one come take this chip off my shoulder,

Rejection

Perhaps its the poets best medicine ?
A critic to twist their every words with strict inner opinion,
Just can't live up to their perfect standard of living,
A rotten soul to hard & toss

Rejection
A bitter sweet toss with another role of the dice to think twice
A devils taut with rosemary & spice,
With cloven briars from a culture of death

Having viscous long hanging fangs that bite in the night

On the haunted sorrowful quest
Eyes shattered with tombstone black
In darkest distortion with no hope ever in turning back,
Attached to the vine of pain filled with destruction within,

The god of self exalted over the king of kings.

Rejection

Never give up even when the fat lady sings
For the winner in life is a quitter
That gets up and gives it one last try!