by The Cowl Editor on October 15, 2020
Poetry
by Sam Ward ’21
Last gen not with it,
Sick blood so guilty.
Ten years no limits
Now just—
Abandon sweetness,
It’s the consequence,
Of genes and failing images
Nobody wants to tell you what
The worst case really is.
Is it self pity or stealth writing?
Truth hides behind stanzas,
Lies directly on lines,
Diatribes on lives
Lost.
We all already lost.
Last chance reaping what we
Sow but gotta do it, no jokes,
Immature when close.
Rock the boat no row,
Floating forward, just winded.
Exhaustion means praying for remission.
These flavors frequent the frequency
Painting palettes, the decency
Is a face you wear.
While the sky rains sucrose
None of us care.
Hide behind pronouns but
I don’t write to be heard.
I just write and share secrets.