A Conveyor Belt Life

I don't know.

Every word that exits his mouth

Is carefully considered, examined

Like a conveyor belt, carrying his thoughts out into the world.

This is, very simply, the formula for his life

He will never be spontaneous, he will never completely let go.

His whole life is planned

And it always will be.

There are some advantages to this;

No surprises, no messes,

Everything will be clean lines,

Just black and white,

No in-between.

But;

He will never laugh with his whole being,

He will never cry until his heart hurts,

He will never sleep beneath the stars,

Uncovered, for the universe to see.

But here, he looks so happy.

I wonder,

How long will he keep up the charade

And if he ever will be happy.

Author's Note

So some reviews on this would be great, some advice on how to make my poetry better would be amazing.

Reviews

[emptyveined]

Beautiful, and such a strong, wonderful message. xxx.