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Passion
by Adam Boren Bennett

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Born and raised in the San Gabriel Valley, I currently reside just east of Pasadena.  A very quaint, hardly quiet little town.  Beautiful mountains absorb the heat, much like my house.  I find myself shy at times. It’s disturbing when its the silence that echoes. But when I am not, I jump from building to building, having fun as I travel. Neither good nor bad, and both at the same time, I find time to mingle with the gods.

Systems among men

that are as confused as simple

So we think and think and think

until we have forgotten

how to think

anymore

I dig a silent grave

in this corpse of a body

Lay on the grass

and look

at the stars

Why do some become great

while others just weep

always entering the silence

in some forgotten backyard

The windows were left open

The doors all locked

I came in sideways

Trying to find

some sort of passion

I heard of the Sinners

and Heavenly Saints alike

Shit can be messy

If left in dirty hands

Entering the middle, thus far

I found other pain

suffering, hunger

and so I dove right in

I broke through

those hours and hours

only to find more

hours and hours

Time seems so short

when thinking about life

seriously like if

you only had today

The motions we can control

within the systems among us

Find the key

and you will enter through

the front door