Another Fallen

Another fallen,
another corrupted,
the world's perversion
again erupted,
the innocent down,
the ears to bleed
with a mouth to follow,
no good left to speak,
a tongue to once
lift up and encourage
now falls into dirt,
the filth in an overage.
The mind was filled
with only purity
until the outside world
sucked dry, drained empty.
The words once positive
now turned to poison
are on the verge
of causing complete ruin
as one cancer spreads
itself to another
until the bodies dead
can only topple over each other.

Answers They Don't Have

This is a poem from a couple months ago that I never posted...sorry for the delay but I hope you enjoy a blast from the past writing style/mind that I carried:


When ideas run rampant
without an outlet
why should I not
act upset?
I know there is
some reason or rhyme
but what if I don't
have the time
to take to figure
or take to discover
when it seems the process
is immediate for others?
I can't turn to them
for the answers
that they don't have
for this, my cancer.
I can't turn to those
who seem to luck out
and when they don't give
I scream and shout.
They don't have
what I'm looking for
or what I need them
to have in store.
There is only one
place it is found,
a place of wisdom
so profound,
but my stubbornness
is yet to be ready
for the approaching
of that place that's steady.
When my anger that
surpasses passes
maybe then can I
look through the glasses.
I hope it's soon
that this anguish of arrogance leaves
so I can once again
feel some kind of peace.