Despairingly steering passed these pools of brown
Into a place of gray and black, shades of life
Once vibrant, open, hopeful, unencumbered, uninhibited
Emotions, weathered from disappointment, frustration, betrayal
Bricks of pain held together by mortar of sadness
Walls fortified with loathing, insulated, shivering
The coldness inside, lonely, solitude a safe haven from vulnerability
Gazing at this shell, steering back, pondering
When did living stop and existing begin
When did fear become a refuge
When did misery become the only company
Entranced, searching for answers in the emptiness looking back
Comforted by words and thoughts, but barely convinced
This wall keeps me safe, silently waiting the day that it breaks
I have of late taken the view that no matter how rebellious, unconventional, non-conformist we would like to think ourselves, we are at some point always part of a similar grouping of people. We are never truly leaders, but followers. Followers, I prefer to refer to us as sheep; because at one point or another in our life we are all sheep. This is a place to express myself, vent my frustration with the sheepdom, and relieve my boredom. It is my therapy for all that contributes to my neurosis.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
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