deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Blissful Scheme
Repetitive sob stories and excuses
Vocalize past crisis just to manipulate with nooses
Clever tears with motive filled amusement
Abusive thrills, justified illusions, solid confusion
I mean, several questions with no answers
Yet still confident in conclusion
I don't understand the fog,
All this smoke causing effusion
My lungs clogged, It's getting harder to breathe
When the source of my oxygen's mixing with pollution
I thought I had the rhythm right,
Laminar perfusion, although
I must've had a diluted solution, now it's all turbulent
The heart beat's wrong, it's become more of a
Constant protrusion, now the heart seem gone!
Numb is what feels like, I mean, I no longer feel right,
Am I winning or losing? Real love is a clean sight,
Who is disputing? This is suppose to be healing,
Why are we bruising? Why are there outside commodities
Trying to get in on our stock, when they got no business
investing in our clock?
Why is it even a choice to worry about selfish folk?
Why is dealing with the same situation still a helpless cope?
Why are they smiling and we're refuting?
We started a new life, and some how unnecessary people
ended up killing slowly what we kept brewing.
This is suppose to be the escape, the far away bliss we dreamed.
This was suppose to be our very own blissful scheme.
Vocalize past crisis just to manipulate with nooses
Clever tears with motive filled amusement
Abusive thrills, justified illusions, solid confusion
I mean, several questions with no answers
Yet still confident in conclusion
I don't understand the fog,
All this smoke causing effusion
My lungs clogged, It's getting harder to breathe
When the source of my oxygen's mixing with pollution
I thought I had the rhythm right,
Laminar perfusion, although
I must've had a diluted solution, now it's all turbulent
The heart beat's wrong, it's become more of a
Constant protrusion, now the heart seem gone!
Numb is what feels like, I mean, I no longer feel right,
Am I winning or losing? Real love is a clean sight,
Who is disputing? This is suppose to be healing,
Why are we bruising? Why are there outside commodities
Trying to get in on our stock, when they got no business
investing in our clock?
Why is it even a choice to worry about selfish folk?
Why is dealing with the same situation still a helpless cope?
Why are they smiling and we're refuting?
We started a new life, and some how unnecessary people
ended up killing slowly what we kept brewing.
This is suppose to be the escape, the far away bliss we dreamed.
This was suppose to be our very own blissful scheme.
Published 12th Jun 2015
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