Litkicks Message Board Archive

The Sun is empty

Posted to Action Poetry




it doesn't hold
the shine, or grandeur
anymore

instead, it is a burning
blistering bubble

one that bores holes
into things best left
in the dark

it doesn't have a soul
a conscious, a means to say
sorry or the wit

to apologize
Instead, it glares
and seethes each time

i look at it. there is
no excuse good enough
that could explain

why it burns me
black as toast.