Untitled 1

It’s 6am.
Echoing slowly between each ear,
The morning news:
Murder on Axle Street,
Road Collision on Fawkland’s Way


Each day is a wake to know
One less or two has disappeared before our very eyes.


The clock is waving hours, nine, ten, and eleven.
A quarrel between a further and a nearer cubicle
Rows are surging violently as the tide hauls inwards
And breaks—crash:
Get the hell out!
You get the hell out!


A daily shift: A daily peril.
Pairs are marching, forwards a' Noah’s docking.


Hurt—ed.
Linen blankets, eyes do stare
Alone.
Fifteen past the hour of night time,
And bruises appear swiftly as if artificial shadows.
Black hearts are made this way:
Tomorrow I am the one.
Tomorrow we are the two.
Tomorrow… I will have slain.
Tomorrow… We will tear apart.
Myself.
Ourselves.


6 o’clock news: Murder on Axle Street
6 o’clock news: Road Collision on Fawkland’s Way
Original Location: http://jack--kun.deviantart.com/art/Untitled-1-99618750
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This was one of my more liked poems that I have written over the past, and while people like them, they still need a bit of understanding to read it correctly. C&C welcome