The Elegance of Adolescence

Somber throats choke on virulent words,
Heavy as dust that flutters as fog,
They stress like thorns on a Sunday dress,
Repress, confess, detest; Oh, passion
Might you grace our eyes.
Carmine lips spin fluid paradigms
Through ashen tongue and malefic grin,
Enticing innocence to fleet regret,
Sing to me sweet soliloquy
With your hand-me-down heart
And that worn out sin,
For I feel the fate that bestows such touch
Upon our delicate skin.
Cryptic riddles slither through the present,
Like quicksand, hopeless and afraid
They cower in the shadow of destiny,
Thirsting for life,
Withering in the depravity of
Our ignorance.