This Clean Mess

Nostalgia, history…amongst things that do not exist

worries resembling the emptiness, the mist

a dark, deep, void has come

but to overcome, we cum, then become, to remain shunned

by our dreams

we are a product in which this void is feeding

one by one, we are just its toys for teething

when the light casts over the dark empty figures

one will lament on the days, he did not conceive a dream much bigger

so to perhaps shift our inevitable hell

only the lucky will rise, only the shameless will have felt

this course we believed was a linear progression of time

let us come to terms that this course is not of the divine

but more of our consciousness that engulfs our being

our consciousness that may deliver us purpose

yet for the weak…a lack of meaning.


By: Rebecca Foinchas of Young Day Productions