► Sartre’s Hades

sartre’s hades —

– Our crutches smile, and surface pleases;
While lives fall apart, and turn into pieces.
At their church’s steeples, we are chancers;
Medicating a cancer, as Hell is Other People.

In this box, we can’t rotate. We are left bare.
There is nothing, but they take what’s there.
No! You can’t relate, and yet not understand.
I know, here I stand; dressed up …not to go!

Answers are on the list, so questions remain.
No plan. – I’m a man, one step ahead of pain.
Anger rises like a tidal wave in a glass of gin.
If I go, ‘a stranger’ will be all that’s left of me.

© R|CARDO.

— Ricardo Sexton