My Poems-Proses-Lyrics


Writing one word theme: meaningless

Hand holding a gun

I have been ill and many questions have been arising in my mind. I have stopped sleeping, and under pills that renders me as slow as a snail. My mind seems unable to make up words anymore. I feel . . . Well, i feel like crap. I hope these darkening skies disappear very soon.

Was it meaningless?
Nothing but an illusive constructing thoughts
I danced in the nothingness
And it felt so good
I tried to stay on the track &
showed my underskin
And put all of bones naked
A free spirit
It was nothing but a mental toughing illusion
Yes, it took me afar
No, my writings seems to stomped
It was meaningless
But it was an eagerness to try.



2 thoughts on “Untracked”

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