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, January 28, 2013

Leaving

My sanity is a pacifist
He doesn't get involved with reality
For fear he might be at risk

I'm headed out the door tonight
I've hit rock bottom
But never great heights

I've missed the target
Because I never fired a round
I'll play myself out now
Just wait for the sound

Farewell to those who knew me best
And good riddance to the rest
Out for breakfast
Out for lunch
Out for dinner
I have finally left the nest

Out for good
Out for God
I can't be forgiven
Do not spare the rod

My features hide under this darkened hood
Out for now or forever
Like Thoreau I went walking in the woods


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