Borrowed Time

another night of less
than stellar sleep

you'd think i was
in my teens again

unbridled energy
with the help of

but each look in the
mirror, each shooting
pain in my lower back
and i am keenly aware
my teens are long gone

phantom pains in
my left leg again

at least i hope
i was warned the next
blood clot would most
likely be the one to
kill me

and here i am

rolling the fucking dice

truly understanding the
meaning of borrowed

Great Expectations

the sun set on any
original plans years

and all we are left
with here in reality
is this supposed
ability to dream
a better dream

yet here we are



remnants of a hopeful
youth now choking
on the debt of the
american dream

spinning in circles
that lead us to

where death is the
path of least resistance

i'd really love to hear
someone explain to
me about the cross
and why it matters
right about now

the expected silence
is the greatest failure
of all

raised to ultimately

J.J. Campbell (1976 - ?) lives, writes and ponders death on a daily basis on a farm in Brookville, Ohio. He's been widely published over the years, most recently at The Camel Saloon, Zygote in My Coffee, Carcinogenic Poetry, ZYX and Gutter Eloquence Magazine. His first full length collection of poems is due out in 2012 from Interior Noise Press. You can contact J.J. via email, jcampb4593@aol.com, his homepage, http://sites.google.com/site/losersincsite/ and his blog, http://evildelights.blogspot.com.

2004-2012 Underground Voices