My Sense of Reality


Inarticulate words of blunders
in whispers, in clouded gasps.
Mocking silence, rude stares
and a girl's inappropriate giggle.

That is where we're coming from,
that is where we sleep tonight;
to choke sudden screams
and to slumber in safety,
because we know we'll be soon to die.

We fall back up,
too damaged to obey laws of gravity.
We smirk, and we spit at our sorrows.
Now we'll be soon to see your lies.

Death is where they're hiding.




Poetry by True Words Embellished
Read 640 times
Written on 2005-08-31 at 23:02

Tags Sadness 

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epohonci
a five. another great poem :)
2005-09-01