Journal

Insomniac's Journal

Words birthed in the internal

His subconscious' dunk-tank

These words remained unranked

Articulate the contemplations

Of these waking frustrations

Pen in hand

Sleep be damned

These are the greatest thoughts in the land

But why do they come at 4 in the morning

Must write them down

And heed the warning

His memory won't serve him as well when he wakes

If only he knew what was at stake

Words, Words, and more still left to come

Cannot stop till he sees the sun

Sunken eyes

Blood shot red

Sleep finally comes to the walking dead

Friday, February 17, 2012

Sometimes

I wonder sometimes at the heart of all things

I wonder about the girl with the fake smile
What she thinks?
What she thinks of me?

I wonder sometimes about the words of a liar
About their purpose and point
And why they burn with such fire?

I wonder sometimes about the intentions of a friend
Never to be questioned
But I do

I wonder sometimes about the depth of a secret
I peek under the pretense
But I'd rather not know

I wonder sometimes
But I'm not looking for answers

My wondering leaves me with
A handful of half-imagined truths
Hell-bent on the destruction of my mind

I wonder if I should stop?

Posted by at

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)