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

Monday, March 5, 2012

Prerequisite

If the prerequisite for life is growing up
Then good for me
I'm in luck
See, I grew up
Long ago
Things I've seen
Things I shouldn't know
Maybe for the best
Maybe not?
Guess I gotta work with what I got

In some respects
Maybe I'm still a child
Buried innocence
Organized and filed
Logged away
Letters A through E
Lies the truth about me

If it's still there
Then did I fail?
Did I lose at life ?
Am I off the rails?

Unanswered Questions
This is how it goes
Keep on asking till someone knows

Frustrations boiling
Over the top
Now I know that life's a clock
Counting up
Counting down
Keep on going till it's drowned
Each and every one of us
For the universe this is a must

Please tell me
What did you expect?
When you failed the prerequisite

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