The Ryhme
Everyday is just a day,
another drop in a sea
of salty tears that make the year
spread out here before me.
Nothing to do... No visits from you...
My perception turns inward on me
just to see insanity
for without it, what WOULD I do?
Biding time by weaving ryhme
is all that I can bare.
Searching my brain
for words that ryhme with "insane"...
I'd rather just sit and stare.
Out my window, there is a world
that I can not participate.
I can view and stew in my room
and can no longer concentrate.
Now is winter and you can see
the water that falls from the sky.
It accumulates before me,
the kindred tears from skies that cry.
They remind me in their bleakness
of my mental weakness
for wanting colors all around.
But I sit all alone
within my home
where my screams only resound.
They echo back
in their own attack.
I can only sit still.
I can not see a mirror of me
and shattering it will not kill
this life that I gave
to posterity's slave
so freely when I could.
Maybe its time to end the ryhme
while it is still understood.
another drop in a sea
of salty tears that make the year
spread out here before me.
Nothing to do... No visits from you...
My perception turns inward on me
just to see insanity
for without it, what WOULD I do?
Biding time by weaving ryhme
is all that I can bare.
Searching my brain
for words that ryhme with "insane"...
I'd rather just sit and stare.
Out my window, there is a world
that I can not participate.
I can view and stew in my room
and can no longer concentrate.
Now is winter and you can see
the water that falls from the sky.
It accumulates before me,
the kindred tears from skies that cry.
They remind me in their bleakness
of my mental weakness
for wanting colors all around.
But I sit all alone
within my home
where my screams only resound.
They echo back
in their own attack.
I can only sit still.
I can not see a mirror of me
and shattering it will not kill
this life that I gave
to posterity's slave
so freely when I could.
Maybe its time to end the ryhme
while it is still understood.
posted by virtual madness unleashed at 11:07 AM
2 Comments:
I love your poetry and I am glad you put it out there so I can read it, but when it is so dark, it makes me wonder why your life seems so painful. I don't look at you any other way than you being my bright, creative, supportive and loving brother. So what if things happened in your life where decisions were wrong or you were in a bad circumstance...I don't see those things when I see my brother. Never will. Love ya all the same.
To acknowledge the pain is to hope that someday I will move past it. I KNOW why the caged bird sings... or doesn't, at that.
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