A Me Without Clutter

Clutter
Cash… to be shaded by green

How I once dreamed of
Gold
What of a future?

My blood
Drips and drops
From my brown corpse
As I fall
* * *

Clutter
How I dreamed to make it rain

I once felt such praise
To be a winner
Maybe I was once happy

Now I long for the red
Forget about my enemies
My plans shit
I’m shit

* * *

Clutter
How do I survive?

Hanging onto hope
Gold I’ll never find
Former accolades

But am I surviving
Empty, almost dead
Rotting carcass
Burn me to black

* * *

Clutter
Such will be my treasures

Gold for others
Memories
Trophies of others’ lives

The sight of blood a tragedy
My life is not
A momentary sickness
Flushed, trashed, or burned

* * *

Clutter
A clear path

Free and bare
Left with nothing
There is no future

I’m not bleeding anymore
Grown to know the cold
Naked but who cares
Hell is warm this time of year

* * *

How’s this for a change
As I fall
And I’m left to rot
Until I’m swept away
To be left clean and bare

Purified

When all the clutter is gone
I’m not dead
How I wish I were

Better to be buried in clutter
Than buried by thee
What you call happy
It wouldn’t be me

Copyright © 2011, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.