Life, been designed
Lived like a death sentence
For most
Told to dream
But not fulfill it
They’ll be kicking your bed
The moment the REMs start kicking in
Free to roam within our cages
That we help build
walls
Tag: poetaster
Trampling
The words that get you in trouble
Are the dirt you used to bury
What you truly
Wanted to say
In a race to get to the point
That disappears and disappoint
Because you tried and ran with
The OP Position
One day
They’ll trace
The demise of this civilisation
The search of the pathogen
The cause of decay
It started with the deception
Tricycle Ride
It must be the wind blowing
against us as we successfully
escaped
Because I doubt we had the
same intent
But there was expressed joy
That eyes cannot fake
Or that thrill away from what’s closing in
Our youth in high
Scratches, Swirls, Prism
You can almost hear the abrupt change to silence
When the mood switches
Light to dark
Inverted eureka
It’s mostly my fault
Demands of the difficult
Against the maddened dissent
Of what’s pure and patient
That nobody should
Massive Landfall
Passed by a familiar reflection
A battened sybarite
Slowed down by years
Splurged in nights
Charged to a future
Not totally sold
Against the Chorus
They’d love to catch you in a corner
Have you as puzzle
to be figured out
Everywhere from out of nowhere
Conclusive certainties
proud the
You and Every Soul That Left Me
She wanted a love story
A haven where she can suspend belief
That stars can burn bright
Eventually reach
Another
Beyond the sparkling light they share
In this infinite darkness
She wanted a love story
There need not be a hero
She got the scars of independence
Undeserved to be recipient of her warmth
That burns relentless
She taught me how to always look up
To sing away the storm
Against the Desire to Sleep
I’ve learned to slay my restlessness
The way I killed my dreams
Into a slow lull routine jest
Choked by the softest pillows
As with many, turns to sleep
Wasn’t able to find that sweet spot
To drown and doze off
Dull the frequency where
My brain runs its pointless marathon
Of sparks and friction
This headache bangs like kitchen pans
An Adulting Routine
He wakes up unwilling, 4am
But the day begins at 9
There’s usually a battle for a piece of mind
After the bladder’s emptied
And metal tasting water jumped the system up
Quick check on friends
Green lit in another zone
I go quick, be unseen
I don’t want to answer
Whether I’ve yet to sleep or what woke me up
danDAman 