Art in motion? I cannot comprehend,
As my lungs ache and muscles rend
To the beat, amorphous positions.
Who does this of their own volition?
Judgmental stares, silent and still.
Stop, I fear they hope I will.
Yet, the power of allies I cannot deny,
For while we are synchronized,
All the mockery we defy,
Unified, that we might fly.
Move to the rhythm, or so they say,
But, alone, hence sitting I'll stay.
Your feedback helps cursedpens understand what's working
Sono un peccatore dell'anno ottantamila -- un menzonero
Listen, listen. Can you hear. The wind as it whistles. Calling you near. Listen, listen. For it seems to say. " Come to us". " We shall show you the way". Listen, listen. Do you hear.
I'm a person too. I'm here waiting for acknowledgement from you. So much to live up to. So little I am. Be like your sister. Your brother as well. I wish you'd just listen.
Can't they all go away, trying to convince me they are right, just bringing up the topic, causes quite the fight.
Ideas like this are far and few in between, reality crushed from their point of view, how can they doubt my intent, when in reality they need my consent.
Hoping for a new chance, my life takes a turn, hoping for a better future, what we all yearn.
My life is colorful, yet gray seems more the norm, clear consciousness is quite the fight, the reality of our daily human storm..
Not sure if pathological or not, But lately I've been bumbling, a sot, Very much stumbling when I trot, Making strings into jumbled knots. What more can I say. I should stay home today..
Knife in my heart. Bullet in my mind. Kill my spirit. Then leave me to die. I hide it all without a trace. And paint a smile on face. You'll never know my pain. Until I write in a note.
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts!
Want to join the conversation? Sign in to leave a comment.