deepundergroundpoetry.com

Still

Mindless robots we are
riding the metal coffin to our destinies
with empty faces
that lack communication
how can life be so still

Inside of us there are fountains
these fountains are meant to flow
let it flow with thought
of imaginable places and adventures
then why are we so still

I sat down across from a lady
in darkness she was, in darkness she dressed
engrossed in the tome
clutched in her hands
when I bumped her foot, she looked so still

This is my morning ritual
like a hotdog that has gone stale
never ending never renewed
same old meat, same old bun
and always on the plate so still
Written by GMendoza (Gabriel)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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