Fresh and Stale

Fresh and Stale

 

The stench of fresh menthols and stale coffee

They welcome you to life

 

In the early, miserable hours of the morning

And in the rugged, exhausted evening

 

It is where you grow

And where you shrink into the wretched confines of your mind

 

It is where you live

And where the journey is guided by the cold and bony hand of death

 

All slowly

 

You have a small and worn bedroom

A dirty living room

A clean garage

And anything but a full kitchen

 

These are your friends

 

Your perspective and anchor in the world

Your life

 

Where there is contempt and a crippling disdain

But also love

 

Where you realize you cannot have love

Without the miracle of hate

 

You are content here

Reviews

[.........]

I like this, Sean! You have a nice rhythm and beat developed. General rule of thumb, though: with poetry, you don't want to center it completely. Tabbing over is great, but you want everything to be aligned. Personally, my favorite part of this is the first line because it really appeals to the senses - "They welcome you to life" sort of contradicts, in a good way. This is a nice start.