deepundergroundpoetry.com
Searching For Meaning
I promised myself to not open up like this.
I burned the candle at both ends
and expected sitting alone in darkness to be inspirational.
Stapled the words, "I don't know" to my forehead,
and threw all my furniture out into the street.
Thrills drove me deeply
into a groove hard to come back from
like a trail taken too steeply.
Meaning.
Searching for.
Work all day and all through the night
next to conveyers,
for more.
Quit job with cash, needing sleep.
Repeat until empty.
Wake up in cold sweats on tropical vacations,
running out of energy
searching.
Never a balance
to either end of a busy lifestyle.
A nation of workers,
Rothschild's oppressive dream.
We are expected to be busy,
getting a lot done
to feel satisfied
every other twelve hours.
Satisfaction drips from my awe struck mouth
as I swirl with the direction of your retinas.
Drips from lips.
I wasn't looking,
but now my love is on your fingertips.
My heart is a casualty of this moonbeam drive-by.
I'm still not chasing my own goals,
only running into different shades of darkness.
Call it a vacation
while emptying into some sandy get away.
Draining the savings
for a relaxing break from an unbalanced life.
I need water.
I need balance.
In what I need
I find comes naturally.
When I choose to respect my needs
I truly learn to respect others.
I need just a little more time alive
to learn how to live.
To live
I've found that I don't need
much of anything
at all.
I burned the candle at both ends
and expected sitting alone in darkness to be inspirational.
Stapled the words, "I don't know" to my forehead,
and threw all my furniture out into the street.
Thrills drove me deeply
into a groove hard to come back from
like a trail taken too steeply.
Meaning.
Searching for.
Work all day and all through the night
next to conveyers,
for more.
Quit job with cash, needing sleep.
Repeat until empty.
Wake up in cold sweats on tropical vacations,
running out of energy
searching.
Never a balance
to either end of a busy lifestyle.
A nation of workers,
Rothschild's oppressive dream.
We are expected to be busy,
getting a lot done
to feel satisfied
every other twelve hours.
Satisfaction drips from my awe struck mouth
as I swirl with the direction of your retinas.
Drips from lips.
I wasn't looking,
but now my love is on your fingertips.
My heart is a casualty of this moonbeam drive-by.
I'm still not chasing my own goals,
only running into different shades of darkness.
Call it a vacation
while emptying into some sandy get away.
Draining the savings
for a relaxing break from an unbalanced life.
I need water.
I need balance.
In what I need
I find comes naturally.
When I choose to respect my needs
I truly learn to respect others.
I need just a little more time alive
to learn how to live.
To live
I've found that I don't need
much of anything
at all.
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