deepundergroundpoetry.com
Alive But To Feel Dead
Air passes through my lungs
I taste the pleasing savor of food on my tongue
I've seen the beauty and grace of a Sunday
I've even seen the waves of the sea
But...
I feel as a stray
Wondering, seeking and a prison to the cold.
I mold with each forgotten day
My mind is a divided highway, never to know which is the right way
I'm a slave to reality
And I feel the beastly void of the empty space
Of me and who I wish I could be
So I feel lost, num, out of place and misread
But mostly I feel dead.
I taste the pleasing savor of food on my tongue
I've seen the beauty and grace of a Sunday
I've even seen the waves of the sea
But...
I feel as a stray
Wondering, seeking and a prison to the cold.
I mold with each forgotten day
My mind is a divided highway, never to know which is the right way
I'm a slave to reality
And I feel the beastly void of the empty space
Of me and who I wish I could be
So I feel lost, num, out of place and misread
But mostly I feel dead.
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