The City

A Poem by Martin28

The City

The Skeleton knocks on my door
There's a prison around my brain and a bitter taste in my mouth.
''What's Your reply'' he asks.
''I can't be as honest as i'd like.'' I say
I'm too fixated on the glass in front of my eyes and the light overhead.

The bridge i'm crossing can only take me one way.
My brain has other ideas of where my feet want to be.
I break down lamenting how awful the city truly is.
It further reminds me Love isn't a soulful expression, it's only a word.
A word thrown around too much to remain an honest declaration.
The big, fat lie of the millennium.

Meanwhile, the skeleton is still following me.
Looking at me and tilting his head when I stop.
Likewise, the smell of rot follows me too.

You can smoke your cigarette and catch your train.
Regard is not one i'll hold for you.

My smile is really a frown, people just can't tell.
My silence has a sound and it screams in my head,
much like the flapping, distressed wings of caged budgies.
My good intentions are actually evil.
The person writing this is just a memory.
I am the skeleton