A special and weird poem about writing about what I know and what I am sure that I don't. |
-For What's To Come- by Keaton Foster I don't know I don't understand Unsure Unclear Quite queer For what's to come Seemingly Matters none When it should Matter most This here This now Our true God Yet Upon many falsehoods United we stand A mountain of sin Few good things Shining through Darkness not fooled We will pay Oh how we will pay By the skin Of our crooked teeth We have bitten off Far more than We Both you and I Could ever chew Far more than We Both you and I Could ever consume For what's to come Unsung Not spoken A silent warning From a God above From the Devil inside Always with And regarding us One and the same Judgment For the judgmental So much We must pay We must suffer For any sins To be cleansed A river of blood Must wash them away Who am I to say Such tedious things I am no one And yet I am someone A uniquely flawed specimen Who does not know Who does not understand Unsure Unclear Quite queer I certainly appear I stand out While others don't I am uncomfortable to them Just as I am to myself They fear what I say These poems These words Nonsensical illusions Meant to keep them guessing The meaning is never as important As the interwoven context Certainly I could say Plug A into B And you will get C Certainly I could say Do what I impress Only what is meant And you will be safe From any born ideal But I, above all Am incapable of such blatancy So I hide each detail Within the folds of my lines For what's to come Is not for me to decide Only for me to express This is a gift Turned curse Made absurd But then again Maybe not... For What's To Come Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2013 |