The Corrupt File

 


Distorted
checkered floors
run morbid
through mental halls
whispering shadows
hurry in their droves
one tries to tell me
it's time to go.


Lifes images
past to present
run at a
high speed dilligance
a  corrupt file
of my time spent .


Many things
I can't figure out
ignorance sure is bliss
to this
I have no doubt.


If I became
what I am not
my view to you
wouldn't change
a jot
I've gave
all I've got
my brain
has now stopped
the pain
just will not
you're opaque
with a veil
that just won't drop .`