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Writer's pictureClint Haugen

From The Ariel View

A blank page

A new rage

   Another day

A few more words left to say . . .

   

Fueled by the ego

   Where did our youth go?

    A ticking watch

A writer who likes to box

   A fighter who likes poetry

A man hungry for another story 

    Something left inside of his chest

He’s not dead yet


        No . . .


Not dead yet . . .


   Just a chest wound

Just a flesh wound

  But still  

 He’ll be seeing God soon

And weighed and measured

    Judged through and through

From the aerial view

    God already knew

Who was who

   What sin was he

And what sin was you

    

Bitter and angry

   He sank on the scale

      Pride as big as a whale 

And the good in him

   As light as a jellyfish

  Out of love and mercy

God grants the man one wish

    And he shocks God when he says

That with his wish 

    He just wants one little thing

For Sydney Sweeny to suck his dick

     And to feel her tits

And then he can call it quits

    Then he’ll finally submit

Then 

  He can go to hell

He’ll sink down the wishing-well

    Where the familiar smell of hell will hit his nostrils 

Back to the place where he fell down to

A few times before

  Back when he had enough light

To float back up out of the darkness

   But not this time

No 

   This time if he wants back up

He’ll have to climb

   He’ll have to push through the darkness

And harness 

  The heat

   He’ll have to bleed 

     On the blank page

And take all of that rage

   And climb up day after day

He will have to climb out of hell

    With demons pulling on his heels

He won’t heal 

   Like he needs too

But when he is done

   He sure as hell won’t need you 


The light flickers out

  And he can’t see his shadow in the darkness . . .

The beginning of the darkest day 

    And the artist still has a few more things to say . . .


CH 10/21/24

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