Free Poem Fridays: “It May Be Too Late For Us”

Hey Friends, check out my first post on The Yonge Street Portage!
Hope you enjoy it.

Love, Ben

The Yonge Street Portage

It may be too late for us.

Our lungs burn brighter with each breath

and we are too used to blowing smoke from

between obsidian teeth.

Slipping out from singed lips until our eyes sting.

Maybe the stars will shelter our empty husks.

But they’re likely all long dead.

Their SOS signals mistaken for twinkling.

Reaching us too late,

they died off thinking we didn’t care.

Alone in the final throes of our solar system,

we may obtain some small solace in the stars.

Now just skeletons in the shapes of constellations.

Tombstone moons lining the aisles of our excursion.

Our only hope will be find their crypts

and respect the dead.

Apologize for abandoning them in this expanding isolation.

We must plead forgiveness from their children.

Embittered and vacuous.

Voracious successors

still coasting on the reputations of their majestic ancestors.

Too dense to comprehend our regret,

they will remain…

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Provoking Moment

Tonight is a pretty (b)ignite. It feels like things are coming together induce something meaningful. I’ve catalyst of things on my plate. They’re all pretty intense, but they’re incite. I now definitely have the will encourage to better channel my artistic abilities. I’ve surrounded myself with the right people and I dont think anything will come between us impetus against each other.

Here’s to a leap endue something new and a prompt follow up.