No Reason To Live

(Satire)

Just awaiting
for Right time
THAT
God will choose,
when to end it
Prayers are for naught
~ distraught
Womb room tomb
crypt isolation.

There are no
personal phone calls
Nor are there
any private emails
As if one exists
in an invisible prison
To Be forevermore
~ nevermore.

Poetry posts censure
~ censored
Twitter with Follow
writer limitations
Facebook ban,
for too many friends
Existing Federalist choke
limbo shackle.

Sleep then sleep
~ some more
~ more
Days become weeks,
months stretch to
Butt pivots
from prone
to sitting position
Before computer
~ hypnotic
trance trauma.

Why even try
to believe life
is even fair
That all you were
was a pawn of war
A chess game called
the Vietnam conflict
That screwed up
everything afterwards.

American Sentinel
Dead Democracy
Minority dost rule
by corporate decree
America’s Guardian
Dead Poet Society
RIP TAPS
Saving Grace
funeral procession

No Reason To Live
Except
One cannot let
life defeat them
So butt pivots
back down
prone a lone
And dream about
tomorrow’s Miracle
A year from now
or later.

HeArtMosphere Poet

No Reason To Live

Just awaiting for Right time THAT
God will choose, when to end it
Prayers are for naught ~ distraught
Womb room tomb crypt isolation.

There are no personal phone calls
Nor are there any private emails
As if one exists in an invisible prison
To Be forevermore ~ nevermore.

Poetry posts censure ~ censored
Twitter with Follow writer limitations
Facebook ban, for too many friends
Existing Federalist choke limbo shackle.

Sleep then sleep ~ some more ~ more
Days become weeks, months stretch to
Butt pivots from prone to sitting position
Before computer ~ hypnotic trance trauma.

Why even try to believe life is even fair
That all you were was a pawn of war
A chess game called the Vietnam conflict
That screwed up everything afterwards.

American Sentinel Dead Democracy
Minority dost rule by corporate decree
America’s Guardian Dead Poet Society
RIP TAPS Saving Grace funeral procession

No Reason To Live
Except
One cannot let life defeat them
So butt pivots back down,
prone a lone
And dream about tomorrow’s Miracle
A year from now or later.

HeArtMosphere Poet