04-30-2012, 02:16 PM
Broken glass landscape, shadows of humanity waiting to line pockets with pilfered treasures. Five-four, blonde, hidden in the voluminous folds of a hoodie, disenchanted with her derelict reality. Superhero dreams in form-fitting spandex, accentuating natural curves to perfection. Nemesis of filth and corruption, abbreviated to P.I.G. the ass kissers of the hazy underworld lords. Innocence lost in the uniformity of apathy. Visions of lighting the world in truth and love, paints a rare smile on her downcast face. In a blinding flash let the landscape clear itself of syringes and sadness, dissolve the prison bars of safety, spray paint the walls with street art, a laboured love. Closed eyes bring euphoric imaginings of a new world that shatters with the sound of sirens as she wanders through a broken glass landscape, with dreams of saving her world from itself, if only humans could be superhero’s.
"Poets are shameless with their experiences: they exploit them." - Friedrich Nietzsche