Biography of Lee Gelis
I am just a human
Lee Gelis Poems
If I Had A Voice
If I had a voice then I would tell you, Tell you that I loved you, that I cared, That even I, the most silent of faces, Knew of your deepest perils and dooms.
I'Ve Written This Before
I’ve written this before, But I’ll write it again, Because that’s what you do When you don’t have a friend.
Happiness is real when shared. That’s what they say. I’m not so sure. At least, I’m not so sure. I’m different. I’m not like others.
The People, Just People
Do not worry, little human, for the storm shall soon pass Among the storm clouds, battling amongst each other; Their anger and sweat our cause of misery; Our sense of impotence, and despair.
There Is No Living Creature As Foul As I
Push shove step stand, Too many here to move a hand, Angry souls battle us Angry souls sans animus.
Life Is Like A Game Of Trivial Pursuit
Life is a game of Trivial Pursuit. You roll the die and move your pin, Choose your character, upgrade your weapon, Spin the needle, follow the instructions
L'Appel Du Vide
The call of the void The void of the call Isn't anyone listening at all? I think I'm trying
Grade School Ethics
And what were grade school ethics for That we a species now learned more Yet such let our animus roar But stay unfilled unto the core,
If only, if only The world left me lonely Without reason for thought, Then solace comes pronely
He Sits Alone
He sits alone listening To their conversations but Does not pay any attention to Their weak cries about
Games. Games of stone. Mostly. Stone walls that cloud our vision. Cloud my vision. Mostly. Hide me from the world.
History, Time, And Tango
It becomes interesting to watch the people, Dancing among themselves, wondering What point was to be made, and by whom. Watching the stars, as if gods had put them
Paradox Plug In
There’s no such thing as sadness, Just anger and despair, But what pisses me off the most, Is the fact that I don’t care.
There’s definitely someone inside of me, And it’s certain that he’s the enemy, I can’t exactly say this easily, But I really think that it’s only me.
My Hands Are Not Red
My hands are not red,
But they feel like they are.
My hands are not dirty or immoral,
But I think they are all the time.
My hands have not killed, nor raped,
But sometimes I think they have,