Remember Me

page-4Remember Me

I’ve entertained razor-blade youth full of cuts and stubble,

The young blood, tired of ringing their own stubborn set necks,

Who hopped up on apathy, and spent their savings on sex,

With a personification of lust and greed.


Even Leviathan took slumber at their dead wet dreams

Of Liberty Enlightening the World — degrees aloft,

Like a beacon of false hopes and twisted empty knowledge,

Their Colgate smiles, a grimace of shallow parties and wine.


Not even their button-neck shirts could strangle tight enough,

The haggard shoulders of lost hope pulverised in dark guilt;

They found no place for black-rimmed eyes full of nightmares and ghouls;

Instead, lip quivering sufferers found insatiate souls


Reaching for knives, pills, guns, to end heaven-tendered life:

An annihilation reprieve from blank photo albums,

Of what could have, should have, and might have been,

If somehow they were like posters of exam-born success;


Yet, a death with no meaning is a life with no meaning;

And a life with no meaning is death worth embracing;

And a death worth embracing is a life worth forgetting;

And a life worth forgetting is a life worth the ending.


They were intangible untouchable insatiable—

The youth who had forgotten—and yet, today I remember them.


© Iain Sutherland, 2013.
Header image: click here
Paintings by New Zealand artist Vincent Ward
Vincent Ward (Top): Inhale | Exhale – Page 4; (Bottom): Inhale | Exhale – Page 7


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