Gold Teachers


United States
36° 10' 4.2996" N, 115° 2' 26.4048" W

In the dark
Where life is lost
Dreams are dust
Feelings Dumb
People wicked
Voices pester
The thought alone
Of bliss it bothers
The rich man fat
His skinny daughters
The lonely girl
The lust that stops her
Counting the seasons
For an exchange
Of the judge
Within the man
Face at his hands
The looking glass staring
His foe
His only friend
His self
He's watching him go
Wearing the uniform
Bestowed upon him
Racing away no one to stop him
His voice it haunts him
No clear guidance
Of what he needs
The evil mocks him
There is no light near
To stop him
Fear of power and reputation
Who is he?
To hold the throne of that divine
Amongst them most
He is no king of royal blood
Nor a peasant
Of vile hours
His people
See him as a coward
No strength or force
Carved in his voice
No urge
To tower
His meager bones
And common face will eat up the brain
Of those verses
For why is he and why not I
Im built to triumph
The bashful man
With no drive
To argue
With fact or fiction
He consents
In the dark
Where life is lost
Dreams are dust.

Guide that inspired this poem: 



dont really know

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