Rattling Prison's Lights
by
Debra Rose
(Age: 21)
copyright 03-11-2006
Age Rating: 16 to 127
Dark skies mirror feelings of self--
distorted and untrusted,
fragmented, angry,
making promises of a breaking storm
that never comes.
It corrodes the edges of blue,
rotting them away--
a reflection of myself
seen through the eyes of God.
Swallowing hard,
I pray for the sky to cry the tears
that I can no longer find.
The emptiness filling me
threatens to cause an implosion
of my psyche.
I desire a change of pace
that I'm too afraid to find.
To leave behind this city of sin,
neon, and Russian Prostitutes
on the stretch of Vegas Boulevard.
The night time here is suffocating,
driven by speed and sexual desire,
addiction and need for more.
An entire world of lies and
scams and whores,
a city that stands as Hell's own creation.
The Devil would be proud
of the way the showgirls wrap their legs around
their clients necks after the show.
The abandon with which the teenagers
dance for a dollar in their g-string.
But I am ashamed to call this place home.
Gathering my will, I go against
my better judgement.
Risking my own sanity, I take a breath
and tell myself
"stay for a little longer."
College is paid for, the state praying
to keep their youths hostage a little longer,
they offer full rides to
local kids through the university.
But am I willing to sale my soul
for a degree I don't even want?
How much longer can I go on living
in a place that encourages only
death?
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you recommend or rate the work highly...
Wow, never been to Vegas, and now Im almost glad... You give such a gripping view of the city, the way people who live there see it, rather than the tourist who is there for the very reasons that you despise it. You really weave a lot of emotion into this poem, and it makes this piece shine.
-hands her a leash...-
*I hate you Tiffany...-.-* *
-grin-
-pats Lucifer-
It's all good ^_^
)I've been to Vegas a couple times. Loved the weather (I love hot), but I'd still rather live in my little town in the Canadian Rockies.
You have painted quite a picture and it truly sounds like you no longer want to be there. Just get your degree, then you can write your own ticket wherever you decide to live. It doesn't matter if it is not the degree that you want. A degree is a degree to most employers. Without it, good jobs are sometimes tough to find.
It's a big world out there. I have lived in two different countries (one state in the USA and two provinces in Canada) and six different towns. I couldn't imagine living in just one place for the rest of my life.
PS. fix this line "But am I willing to sale (should be 'sell') my soul", then the poem will be perfect.
This really wasn't meant to be a poem about the town, so much as it is a poem about how I hate it here, and need to leave. The feeling of suffocation...the overwhelming, unabating depression, that I feel while I'm in this place
Hello Debra...you cover a lot of territory here in a chilling and resonant manner. It reads almost like a documentary with dark images and fearful examples of a culture gone to the dogs! It is stinging and often gripping. You've captured an important element in the seedy part of town, and this part of Vegas must be a horror!
Welcome !
