NeedleA Poem by MatthewWe're on drugs.
I’m
Laying in my room With a vision of substance Just living with a pain That isn’t fully mine Entering a tomb For a forgotten man Just waiting here to die Staying For a reason that isn’t fully known Finding a reason that can’t be found Just diving in the role Because there wasn’t much else to do Believing for the day If and only if it should be fine Just deciding that it’s time Sitting in my room, with a needle in my hand Just Waiting the coming of pain That won’t be here for long Sitting in my room, with a feeling in my hand Just Waiting for the tomb That won’t be filled for long Here In this place and now I will surely find the reason and how Just listen here while you vow You never ever thought That life would be too short The clock it slowly ticks Just deciding that it’s time Today Was just like yesterday Tomorrow feels like it’s own dream Just floating around a place That feels so common and It’s all fine and good Not that I cared anyway Just waiting here to die Sitting in my room, with a needle in my hand Just waiting for the feeling That just eats me with it’s pain Sitting in my room, with a book in my hand Just waiting for the tomb Of some forgotten plan © 2013 Matthew |
StatsAuthorMatthewKSAboutI enjoyed writing comedy for the most part. I'm using this site to try my hand at poetry. Mostly I'm concentrated on poetry that could fit into music. more..Writing
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