top of page

The Final Plea

We lunge at strings

That trail away from us

Helium lifting the colours

Entertained like children

For a brief minute

It’s a party here

And everyone’s making out around me

But I’m over this and I’m bored of this lifestyle

So, like a real fucking poet

I light a cigarette outside

Just to cry under the stars

That bear witness

To the resignation of millennials

Behind the budding balloons

That drift aimless

In the black pool of the sky

They float

I leap into the ripe air

Quick, help me

Before they all escape

Before there is nothing left.



🎨/📷 by Man Ray, Glass Tears, 1932

bottom of page