Tuesday, July 27, 2010

versus

Rbroadby at hotmail dot com, is that my identity now?
Have I stooped to the level of some random email
Where a bright eyed kid became a one eyed fib
forever preying on the ideology, but scared to commit?

I sit inside and harbor a gut feeling that will soon send me reeling
send my thoughts outwards and beyond the ceiling
to a place I see, but will never be reasonable believing.
In a futile state I stand, mixed with a sense of grieving
and I ponder; is life worth the effort of thinking
How much do I actually see between the blinking?
and how much do I dream without fully sinking
into a subconscious world where I cant be existing?

And I'm so unattractive both to the world and myself
I could so easily just label myself, and be put on a shelf
for the closest bidder to buy without a chance for goodbye
to the life I knew – versus the hand I was dealt.

But I will go on with a sense of irony believing that there's people worse than me
people that are born into poverty, and are never given the opportunity.
while I squander mine meekly and think apathetically, all the while wondering
why the world won't offer solidarity?

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