Where are We Going

Where are We Going

A Poem by Connor

scratching at the edges of this deep valley
i'm falling again down the cliff face
reaching at exposed roots and crags and cracks
doing anything i can not to look down
funny thing i think, that i'm falling towards the sky
funny thing i think, that when i look up, all i see is foggy darkness
what am i doing halfway inbetween polar opposites
reaching for the core of the planet, away from the sun
get burned either way and i don't know where i'd rather head
the crackling, bumping, banter of falling rocks is all around me
all this noise, all these distractions i almost forget to
try and find a grip on this place. 
and f**k it i think, i have no idea which way i'd rather head
why don't i just lose control and hang here
sure ill get tired after a while, ill work on it when i get there
funny thing playing with people like toy soldiers
clay figures lined on a shelf and arranged any way you want
manipulation is an evil key we all use to get our way
but i don't know where its headed this time
and what am i doing, where am i going
all i'm doing is manipulating my own detiorated mind
why would i ever want to climb back to hell
as i reach up branches looking towards the 
dark mist. 

© 2010 Connor


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all i'm doing is manipulating my own detiorated mind

-- good line.

Posted 14 Years Ago



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Added on January 24, 2010
Last Updated on January 24, 2010

Author

Connor
Connor

About
i'm a journalism student attending northeastern university. my dorm bookshelf currently holds big sur by jack kerouac, the stranger by albert camus and junky by william burroughs. my favorite music ar.. more..

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