April PAD 14: Doomsday


yours comes the moment
beliefs are negotiated
to earn a dollar

implosions start
with the concession
that beauty is useless
unless sold

the exchange of dignity
for jewels or fame
or a name
reflecting all that you are not

will be forgot
when all your righteous
pretense explodes

Prompt: Write a doomsday poem


Still catching up. In writing this poem, I thought about the intense pressure artists feel when caught between the need to support themselves and be true to their creative voice. Is it ever alright to bend to the forces that be and “sell out”?

2 thoughts on “April PAD 14: Doomsday

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