EscapistA Poem by DreSomeone who does not want to participate.I stumbled into a world I didn't belong to today. How could she sit there and try to fit an idea into the conversation, and why did it all sound like old news? I'm very tired, and peopled out. How could she find a way out of what she was saying, cutting it off, curling into a ball on the floor mat by the fire? There isn't any caring in what is being said, it's all dissmissable and its all been incorrectly said before. How the hell can she get out? Shut it off, and make others feel the numbness in the back of her head? Most of the time I don't care about what I have to say. Why should anybody else? She longs for him, the one who brought laughter and fumbled in the dark with her trying to find the stars. She is happy when lying on a damp midnight picnic table lauging. Where is the laughter? How can she escape the thought when she is trapped at the table with no way home. © 2009 Dre |
Stats
140 Views
Added on April 23, 2009 |