The Bottom

The Bottom inspires me.

The cold, lurking monsters in the 

“real world”…

inspire me.

The pains and the aches in my body, 

inspire me.

One day, I won’t feel,

won’t breath,

simply won’t… be.

So, failure inspires… me.

 

Hatred inspires me.

The things that keep us chained, weighing us down in a grog of blinding darkness, burning depression, the shadows in our own minds that watch over us as we slumber 

intoxicated off of our own vanity and lust…

Inspire me.

Like violets in the spring sunshine,

I aspire to grow past… beyond,

closer to the light that birthed me; us.

The opportunity to be free

to be beautiful for my father and mother,

to bloom into a bouquet for my entire family,

to become a valley of possibility for my friends and the strangers I’ve yet to meet,

to pollenate the world with an essence of passion, fervor and forgiveness…

That’s why The Bottom inspires me.

The Bottom gives the best view of The Top.

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world

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