ListlessA Poem by EnsuingMosaic
Why's it so damn hard to see which truth is the truest? In this land of plains dimensional and vain we swim flounderingly to either our graves or the safest place. There is no safest place, its void, its subjective, its not an object or elective or electric we don't erect it, we stand corrected most of the time, we think we've found reality lucid and refined, an ego trap that's all, we slip and land inside our mind. Complain,whine, b***h, moan, object, react, act, fake, split, spit in eachothers faces with lament backwards and forthcoming is hard to get, passively aggress, guard my heart and wear it on my sleeve with gauntlets. Paint a f*****g d***o. Take a f*****g pill to stop the leakage and seepage from the rotten parts, gangrene in the mind, adhd, depression, bipolar and schizophrenic, psychotic is the new norm hung himself in the college dorm. Hung himself to avoid the storms of young and belligerent behaviors, if he'd only waited he woulda seen that later the more animalistic we become the further back we fall. He would've grown tall in the crowd of gents, gents, women and men. That's what we go by today.
© 2018 EnsuingMosaic |
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Added on April 14, 2018 Last Updated on April 14, 2018 Author
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