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, October 5, 2012

Coward's Lament

I looked into her eyes
As they tore me apart
With self-loathing and hatred
Embarrassment and doubt
Unhappy endings
Are sure to follow me home
Hand in hand
With myself
Solemn & Alone
Regretful advances
Of the imaginary kind
My courage and bravery
Long since left behind
Words in the air
Heavy and unspoken
Manhood diminished
Communication broken
Is this the end?
Of a journey I did not take
We are a result
Of the choices that we make
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