After hearing My Absolutists' Blessings

March 20, 2010
By KICK3593 PLATINUM, Roslyn Heights, New York
KICK3593 PLATINUM, Roslyn Heights, New York
49 articles 0 photos 74 comments

There are squashed bugs on the floor
As I am thinking of you,
And I ponder their existences,
How they jumped and how they flew.

There is a lean and empty hallway,
Large walls that are white from toil,
And a polished wooden floor under me
As my mind has begun to boil.

There is a white ceiling above me
As I gaze for my own damnations.
A smoke detector like a chandelier that beeps over my head,
Like calling out random consolations.

As I try to walk on through my shame,
I hear a clumsy flutter;
For around the corner, like rain falling on my window,
A child somewhere has started a mutter.


The author's comments:
At a party, my relatives usually wind up giving sentimental blessings that the celebrated individual of the night will continue in their life to acquire vast riches and supreme existence, etc., etc.--I have come to call these my familiar absolutes. You might call this my thoughts on the matter, but the idea of the poem IS ABOUT adolescence, for the most part. Otherwise, yeah, it is a personal opinion.

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