A Strange Slice
Words, words, surround me
Manipulate and hound me
Forcing me to rearrange
Once again to force a change
In my basic preconceptions.
Am I alive or am I dead?
Am I somewhere else instead?
Am I trapped within my head?
Am I somewhere else instead?
This doesn't taste like pain to me.
How confusing is my sanity.
It tastes just like insanity.
It's almost pleasure, actually
Do I still think I'm sane?
At least there is no pain
Yet, I still fear.
I beat it down.
It is still here,
It's always 'round.
Totally and constantly,
it breathes in my reality.
The mirror makes a face at me
keeping me
good company.
Do you still think I'm sane?
Baby, I'll explain
MY GRIP
HAS SLIPPED
MORE THAN A BIT.
The thread connecting me
to my sanity
is frayed, I'm afraid.
Yes, I still fear.
I beat it down.
It's always here,
it's always 'round.
Totally and constantly,
it breathes in my reality.
And you still think I'm sane?
At least there is no pain.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
for the theme of Existentialism ....hope it works for you
By blind poet
© 2008 blind poet
(All rights reserved)
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