A short, odd poem about fighting against the idea of having no use or purpose. |
-Of No Use- by Keaton Foster Of no use Him God above Darkness below The legions do grow Running away Screaming escape They hate his face His wicked gut Drives them nuts His lack of caring Desperate and barbaric They can’t stand that he is alive He often screams of why And so do they To neither Will there be a reply He will remain alone An unwanted being with no soul His mother he does not know His father, an impossible danger All of his siblings Mine as well be strangers On the day that he was born He was given away Tossed into the deepest grave The entire world was placed Right down upon his chest Since that day all that he has done All that has made any sense Has been a continual effort towards escape The harder he pushes The more the world above fights back Of no use For him quite obtuse There has to be more And unlike anything else In that he’ll always believe No one loves him But oddly he loves himself At peace with his demons At grip with his situation The harder the world above pushes The more resourceful he becomes Survival is a hell of a mechanism A machine for existing When existing Was the last thing intended Of no use What they repeatedly say He takes quite personally What they mean he could care less He will keep right on fighting Pushing back against the world That keeps pushing down upon him His life and those unlike him Are unquantifiable different They are weakened by what they Have no ability to understand He is emboldened by what he sees And knows to be abundantly clear… Of No Use Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2014. |