0 - Unfinished Poetry 2

Tragic
 
 
It’s tragically tragic that you took all my magic.
I’m feeling so empty, where once I wrote aplenty,
But now I’m a memory.
A shell without thought, the sale of the century.
I’ve oversold and been bought like a Walmart racket.
No hope in brackets, just cold hard truth,
Dispensed unto you.
 
So seize the lightning when it strikes,
Before your heart goes out on strike.
No love to write Poetry exists in my day,
Just a fleeting illusion of what I once was.
The Wizard of Oz is dead and gone.
He’s been lost in a fantasy world I call my mind.
 
What’s mine is mine.
I’ve already shown you my light
And where once I burned bright,
But now I’ve gone super nova.
The story is told and is getting older and older.
 
No longer producing radio edit mixing.
No lyrics to speak,
Just dead, deceased.
Just ceased and seized,
Trapped in a box.
A life without reason.
Ready or not.
 
I’m going forward, history aches.
The scars are labelled on my face,
But you can’t see as I don’t exist.
Pixie magic led me with tricks
And reality is just another kick in the teeth.
 
 
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