Ingham and Cass by Quinn Vokes The cross at Ingham and Cass is hardly dead. She tried to kill it, her bare hands groping for some sign of hope, but lulled into a false sense of security. She couldn't see the fall coming until her skin was imbedded with rocks from hitting reality so goddamned hard. It's so much more than just keeping them from harm, it's keeping them from going over the edge, from doing harm, from getting to the point where they're not recognizable anymore. She can't see through those stained glass eyes (maybe she just needs a change of scenery), the last stand of the neglected warrior to the woman changed. I just wanna crawl into a hole and sleep for the rest of time. That sounds good. Nothing major, just sleep for all of eternity. I think that's reasonable. Fog has stayed thoughts and dreams in a lifetime of carefree carousing, good wholesome fun. Why didn't she stop to think? To realize that the fog was killing them both. All she needed. So me and Jack, we're gonna roll with some bourbon and forget the rest of the world. Who needs 'em! AND WHEN WE WAKE UP, IT'LL BE A BRIGHT NEW WORLD. FOR ALL OF US. 05/16/2007 Author's Note: *Written in 2006 Posted on 05/16/2007 Copyright © 2024 Quinn Vokes Member Comments on this Poem Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 10/26/08 at 01:26 AM In this poem perhaps the profanity emphasizes the point! Thick with sarcasm. Indeed damned by selfcenteredness and probably selfinflicted addiction. Impressive. Posted by Jo Halliday on 04/24/09 at 01:22 AM Yes, yes. Very impressive. Return to the Previous Page   pathetic.org Version 7.3.2 May 2004 Terms and Conditions of Use 0 member(s) and 2 visitor(s) online All works Copyright © 2024 their respective authors. Page Generated In 0 Second(s)