The Book Of Thee Importance Of Nothing
Date: Sunday, 6th July 2014 @ 11:05:26 AM AEST Topic: Sad Poetry
Contributed By: unknown_utopia
I live in a place
that is no where
everything is out of focus
thee carousel of Ill emotions
spin me 'round and 'round.
When I see something that is good
I reach out
to caress it
and as the Illusion slowly dissipates
I fall back into a room unattached,
In the burning confusion
the dark shadows come alive
because they sense my condition
and they drink in my dismay
as I emotionally I melt.
I can't stop thinking
that freedom is an Illusion
all sanity's shattered
and that we live in a matrix
and nothing really matters,
Crippled and broken
from the stench
of the silence of my conclusion
sometimes give up
and as I fall in slow motion
there's a sense of relieve
as I float and silently fade.
The book of
thee Importance of nothing
is now my bible
in this unhealthy survival
where the Minions of Manic depression
like vampires
feed off my pain.
This poem is Copyright © unknown_utopia
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