InspirationA Poem by ApparitionWhy does inspiration only come in moments of, frustration When I'm pacing, mind is in a hopeless state, contemplating My center feels a million miles away But words connect like the obvious cliche In the dialect, maybe in the story, where's the replay Is my perception delayed, been decayed Like yours when the message was relayed If I rely only on emotion I'll be coastin towards a host of problematic quotients But if logic is my potion passions pulling at my coat tails I feel like f****n frankenstein without the throat nail What have I created in myself, that dwells, in a perpetual cell afraid to ride when the wind catches sails, rather push on like a snail entitled in my fail, sippin on the holy grail Reverted back to watchin the coincidences pass through Calling them coincidence, thinking of them as chance Instead of; as a chance, at a glance, I'm a dunce Like the homerun hitter, always going for a bunt, Always knew that I know about the notions, but I'm smoking on this blunt Please realize I'm higher than the sun, once it rises, once it falls I up it one Wow, life's so f****n fun, being stuck in limbo hurts my back, could someone raise the bar some? I got some questions for the one, am I stuck in a proliforation Or am In still on the path of the ancients Is there such thing as stuck, such thing as truly fucked up? The totality is tough to stuff inside my half empty cup Now that things completely full of diluted muck But a blessing to the messenger who's testing me on luck Got a question for the editor, the meditative evaluator Am I riding up the escalator? or stuck on a qualitative elevator Broken gears, should have asked god for a quantum matter respirator Quantitative estimators, couldnt even guestimate, the odds of wether I am on a path, or tromping through the forest wearing clogs Turn the damn cogs, flip the page, am I in the right chapter Now I'm not even enraged Now I'm foating like a rubber schmucky, coasting like a bubbles buddy I'ma go post in the shade, with some high grade
© 2012 Apparition |
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Added on January 8, 2012 Last Updated on January 8, 2012 AuthorApparitionfive thousand two hundred and eighty away from wavesAboutI am an apparition, a ghost in the system, the host's no longer the victim, the parasite grows weary of the barely alive flesh dressed in a hardly harrowing death caressed mess, stressful doesn't trul.. more..Writing
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